Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Beca looks beautiful, all clad in white. The bodice of her dress is snug and fitted. Sleeveless and strapless, baring her delicate shoulders. Her hair, so carefully styled and pinned by Chloe's own hands.

Beautiful, Chloe repeats in her mind. She tries not to stare, but it is too difficult not to marvel at the way Beca just seems to glow. It is reminiscent of so many memories Chloe previously held close to her chest (radiant smiles from across the room, hoisting championship trophies, graduation, smiles from across a flickering campfire), yet here Beca is in front of all their friends.

For all the world to see.

A tinge of joy sparks in Chloe’s chest before spreading into a flame that sends the most pleasant of aches through her body.

She is so indescribably happy for Beca’s happiness...and yet—

It’s just that now, in this moment, there is a kind of impossibleness about Beca that rattles Chloe’s heart. She looks beautiful with a nervous - but unmistakably radiant and happy - smile adorning her face. It’s the kind of smile that art only hopes to capture - the kind of happiness that makes people envious.

Chloe remembers that her brother once told her that a person’s perspective and emotions could change completely by way of simply tilting their head. He had then taken the opportunity to push her into the pool while she had observed an adorable bird flapping its wings in the cool spring air. It had all been a ploy of course, but for some reason, Chloe knew that she would not have seen that bird if not for a change of perspective. A change of heart, maybe.

She wonders if she can tilt her head now if only to right all the wrongs in her life. Her world is already bent and skewed and she navigates through it on shaky legs. She has navigated and navigated and brought herself here. To this moment.

To Beca’s wedding day.

It makes Chloe sigh with how breathtaking Beca looks. She clutches her bouquet a little tighter, watching Beca practically glide down the aisle while holding on to her father’s arm.

Beca is a force in Chloe’s life. She perpetuates this constant push and pull somewhere deep within Chloe’s chest, like she is pulling Chloe to shore, but Chloe resists because she knows Beca isn’t hers - not really. It’s a little akin to self-preservation, but she’s resisting the one thing she knows will make her happy beyond reason.

It’s why Chloe is here today; it’s why Chloe is trying to stop herself from crying, lest she break down very publicly and very inappropriately.

It’s because today isn’t about her, not one bit.

It’s about Beca marrying her college sweetheart.

Or rather, in other words:

Beca chose Jesse.

Beca chose Jesse all those years ago and now Chloe pays the price for never having spoken out; she’s paying the price by watching the love of her life marry somebody else, while she smiles and pretends she’s okay with it all.

And she is - she’s okay, really. She knows that Beca is happy - from what she can tell - and she knows that Jesse will take care of Beca.

But she would absolutely be lying if she said “being okay” meant that it didn’t hurt at all, because it does hurt. It hurts like a bitch, and that’s putting it lightly if Chloe’s being honest.

So Chloe lets her heart bleed out, not caring that she leaves remnants of her love for Beca along this path they’ve walked together: she’ll accept whatever fate comes to her, even if it means just being Beca’s friend because it’s better than not having her in her life at all.

They’ve all known each other for years at this point.

Chloe’s world has been spinning slowly from the moment Beca told her she was engaged and now...watching Beca kiss Jesse softly—tenderly—Chloe’s world slows so much that she thinks she stops breathing for a moment.

Though all eyes are on the happy couple, Chloe’s world slows and blurs until she’s the only one there, witnessing this unfold before her eyes. She feels an unreal sense of nothingness well up inside her while happiness struggles to fill the void, a happiness she struggled to find for as long as she can remember.

And here, Jesse and Beca are, having found that happiness for themselves.

So she borrows some of that - thrives tragically off the love her life being happy because it’s what she deserves. It’s what they all deserve.

Then, when Chloe comes back into herself, her world is bent and twisted - tilted on its axis in all the wrong directions.

Beca is smiling at her with tears in her eyes, holding on to her husband’s hand and there’s nothing Chloe can really do about it.

Beca turns with Jesse and hand in hand, they float back down the aisle. Chloe watches them as they go—float seems like the only apt word because they seem to drift, like they are simultaneously fading from her own conscience.

She marvels at how quickly they became Jesse and Beca. No longer Jesse-comma-Beca.

Chloe’s hands are numb from clapping, watching from her own perch as the maid of honor, though she finds little honor in her position, considering she is kind of sort of very much in love with the bride herself.

Still. Clapping. She plasters a smile on her face even as her heart thrums uncomfortably, like a warning sign. The only real physical reminder that she’s present; that she’s there.

* * *

It wasn’t even that long ago—

“Are you happy?” Chloe had asked. Well before the wedding. Well before the preparations for the wedding. Something that Chloe had always enjoyed about her relationship with Beca was their ability to communicate with each other, mostly because of all the struggle they had endured to get to this point. They talked often and sometimes for hours at a time. It brought—continues to bring—joy to Chloe whenever they managed to steal away into their own world for a few moments. The distance between them, distance which only grew with time, was a buffer, but nothing permanent.

Chloe was and still isn’t good with boundaries.

The distance was somewhat of a buffer, but Chloe was never good with boundaries. She had allowed herself to be sucked in by Beca and consumed by Beca's wants and needs, even if Beca hadn't wanted her. It hadn't mattered. Didn't matter, especially not then as the precious minutes ticked on by.

Even less than an hour ago, when Chloe had been staring at the back of Beca’s head for an entirely different reason, hair brush in her hand, ready to help Beca become the bride she wanted to be.

“Are you happy?” Chloe had asked, once again.

She was Beca's maid of honor. She had duties to fulfill. Hair to comb and brush. A smiling and happy bride to please.

It was a special kind of hell, waiting for Beca to respond. It felt like a stupid question, in retrospect.

So. Hell. A special kind of hell for those who inappropriately fall in love with their best friends.

As for Beca—

Beca’s eyes had lifted to catch Chloe’s in the mirror and for a moment, their breaths had stilled. Beca always prided herself on knowing Chloe well. Probably better than she knew herself at times. Still, the question had jarred her - but not because of the context. It had been the way Chloe asked: trepidation and emotion bleeding through the three simple words, like another set of three words that set people's hearts aflame.

(There had been times where Beca found herself instinctively wanting to respond with another three words. Equally simple, but equally capable of setting people's hearts aflame, much like her own. How natural that would have felt.)

A range of possible answers flooded through Chloe's mind as the silence stretched. She imagined and imagined, combing through Beca's hair with slow, gentle fingers. Then, Beca finally turned to face her and the imagery changed. Chloe imagined all kinds of things that Beca could say – all the ways Beca could have broken her heart.

The happiest, Beca could say.

Or-

I love him with all my heart.

He’s everything I want and more.

Instead, all Beca managed to do was hesitate; all Beca managed to do was say a soft - the softest - “yes” and that had been the end of that conversation.

Chloe hadn't been sure if she should have breathed a sigh of relief or if she should have sucked in a breath of despair.

* * *

Shockingly, at a wedding reception for two of her friends (Jesse is a friend, Chloe tells herself), Chloe finds it difficult to pick out a familiar face.

She is seated between Benji and one of Beca’s cousins. It’s one of the odder tables she’s ever been a part of, but Chloe can’t complain, being a part of Beca’s life.

“Hey,” Benji says quietly.

“Where’s Emily?” Chloe asks, equally quiet as they watch Beca and Jesse share their first dance as husband and wife. Something heavy rests on her shoulders.

Benji laughs, a little self-deprecatingly. “We’ve been over for a while now.”

Chloe thinks she could facepalm at that exact moment if she weren’t cradling her wine glass precariously. “I...I’m so sorry. Yes, I knew that,” Chloe murmurs, embarrassed. “I totally knew that and I just…” her gaze flickers, practically automatically, back to Beca and Jesse.

Now, somehow, her eyes lock on directly to Beca’s eyes. Beca’s eyes which are glistening as clear as day.

Beca’s voice rings in her head, suddenly drowning out all other sounds.

“I...I’m sorry,” Chloe repeats. “Got caught up in memories, I guess.”

She misses Benji’s sympathetic expression. He pauses before speaking. “I totally get it if you don’t want to do the song.”

And there’s that.

(Also, it figures that Jesse’s best friend is as intuitive as ever. Chloe thinks that her and Benji must make a fine pair.)

“No,” Chloe murmurs. “We’ve practiced it enough and it’s on the itinerary. Aubrey will kill me if I don’t sing the song.”

Benji grins, as boyishly handsome as ever. “Weren’t you the maid of honour?”

Chloe cuts him a playful glance. “You think Aubrey Posen would pass up an opportunity to plan something? Especially for a fellow Bella?” She clears her throat. “And...it was probably for the best that she ended up taking control of the whole thing.” At Benji’s inquisitive expression, she falters. “I’ve been busy with work. New school year and all.”

He nods, but doesn’t push. Instead, he rises to his feet and holds out a hand. “Dance?” he asks. “Just to get the pre-performance jitters out.” His smile is genuine. “I know it’s…” he lowers his voice. “...it’s been a while since you’ve performed.”

Chloe snorts, already feeling something unclench from around her heart. “And who won Nationals three times in a row?” She accepts Benji’s hand nonetheless.

“Okay, super senior. Win any awards for that?”

The laugh she lets out is one of the easiest ones she’s let out in a while.

* * *

Watching Beca and Jesse grow together was in itself a long and tumultuous road. As with most college relationships, they had their ups and downs, had their moments apart, but somehow - always somehow - Beca would talk herself (and Chloe) back into the idea that her and Jesse were meant to be together.

If Chloe had to pinpoint important moments from her college experience, she’d use the markers of Jesse and Beca’s relationship to pinpoint specific moments where she felt like her and Beca were something more. The way Beca’s eyes would flash or change whenever she looked at Chloe - or even the way Beca’s body always somehow angled towards her, attentive and caring and confusing all at once.

As for Jesse and Beca, there were many times where Chloe believed they would separate permanently, but they somehow always forced themselves back together. Forced. Not found. What that meant was that Beca would find herself distressed and huffing and pacing in Chloe’s room, nearly rubbing a hole into her floor with how frequently she did that.

Chloe privately thought—feelings shared by Aubrey and Amy from time to time—that Jesse and Beca were better off as friends, but there was something a little romantic, she supposed, about marrying your significant other from college and building that idyllic life together. There was something a little picturesque about that - about growing together to the point that they were ready to spend the rest of their lives together.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that Jesse and Beca were that couple: they were both successful and talented and both agreed to live together in Los Angeles. It was almost annoying how well they worked together, but even Beca, on a drunken whim at Barden during her junior year, had confided that she sometimes had felt that something had never really clicked between them.

Chloe never pursued that line of thought because Beca had still been happy.

So they graduated, won the Worlds, and everybody went their separate ways.

That’s the short story.

The slightly longer story is that Chloe planned and planned until she grew so terribly weary of seeing her career advisor between classes. She grew weary of dragging half-eaten sandwiches into her equally exasperated career advisor’s office. She studied until she saw black spots in the corner of her vision.

By the end of her senior year, she had plans to leave Barden and never look back.

She contemplated moving home. She contemplated Portland and her parents’ comfortable home. She contemplated the fair weather, the nice trails, and the free meals.

She thought of stability and mediocrity and everything that came with the idea of settling - not even settling down.

Just, settling.

So, instead, she called her brother and asked whether she could stay with him in San Francisco. She called her brother because she barely talked to her sister. She called her brother because he was where she wanted to be.

(California. She wanted to be in California. Beca’s determination and drive bleed into Chloe, as expected when two bodies exist in such close proximity. Chloe is helpless to stop the ebb and flow of Beca’s spirit and drive into her own body.

She craves it.

It makes her better—makes all of them better.)

Despite Aubrey’s insistence that she take up a position at Fallen Leaves with all associated perks and benefits, Chloe declined that offer and finally settled on working towards being a teacher.

(“In California?” Aubrey asks, trepidation in her tone. Disapproval, maybe. Chloe doesn’t want to get into that now.

“Yes. Eventually.” Chloe responds because what else is she supposed to say?)

* * *

“You’ve always been weirdly good with kids,” Beca says lightly. They’re folding their blankets while the last embers of the fading campfire flicker away.

It surprises Chloe because Beca had been oddly quiet while the rest of the Bellas made their way back to the tent for their final night. Taking pause, Chloe watches Beca’s face for any clues as to why she’s bringing this up now or if Beca’s going to continue her train of thought.

“I guess,” Chloe says slowly. “I mean, I don’t really think that I could find a steady job teaching underprivileged children how to sing.” A small smile works its way across her face. “That’d be nice though.”

“Not just that,” Beca says quickly. “I just...think you’d make a really good teacher. Of the general sort. Like, teaching kids...how to read. Or do math.” Beca seems to grow more embarrassed as more words flow from her mouth. “You know what I mean. You’ve always had the most ridiculous patience with the Bellas and you’ve also always managed to…” Beca’s voice grows quieter. “You’ve always helped me believe in myself. So, that’s...yeah.”

That little monologue is surprising enough that it’s Beca who is rambling nervously in front of Chloe. But it’s the added touch of Beca being bashful - shy almost - as if she’s revealing something intimate about herself that really makes Chloe’s cheeks warm.

“And maybe,” Beca suggests casually, evening her tone out like she’s talking about the weather, but Chloe knows better. “Maybe that’s a job you could do in California.”

And there it is. The blurry lines and deep-seated emotions finally rising to the surface.

Chloe adores this side of Beca. It’s rare to see such vulnerability shine through. Chloe thinks she can count on two hands the amount of times Beca’s walls crumbled in front of her, enough so for her to seek comfort in Chloe’s room in the dead of the night, or to find Chloe at her favorite spot in the library.

“Yeah?” Chloe asks, almost too afraid to break the silence.

Somehow, Beca looks younger, standing in front of her. Like she's standing in front of Chloe in her freshman year, asking for a chance somehow.

“Yeah,” is Beca’s equally soft reply.

Chloe gently tugs the half-folded blanket from Beca’s hands. She smiles and helps Beca refold it without saying another word.

There really isn’t much more Chloe can say.

* * *

And even since then – since that fateful evening, sitting around the campfire without a care in the world – she says nothing and does nothing. The memory of one of their last nights together as college students and as Bellas is seared into Chloe's mind.

It’s not like she can do or say anything, really. For all intents and purposes, Beca is happy and Jesse is sweet. They work together and Chloe isn’t in the business of breaking up solid couples.

So she throws herself into work after Jesse proposes. She buries herself in work after the wedding. Buries and buries like an ostrich with its head in the sand because it is easier to pretend than face the reality.

Chloe is terrible at coping mechanisms. A product of how she grew up, she supposes.

Amidst all this – amidst the hurt, the separation, and the desperate bid for happiness, she completes her teaching certification. Even worse, she moves to L.A.—fully moves, boxes and all—and she goes out to dinners with Jesse and Beca like some hapless third wheel, pretending everything is fine and she is completely and totally okay with seeing Beca and Jesse hold hands like they’ve done so a million times before.

Chloe is nothing but resilient and maybe a bit of a masochist. She wills her crush away (prays for some kind of reprieve for sinners like her) but she learns the hard way that it is useless because she can’t will away something that doesn’t exist.

Because she doesn’t have a crush.

It’s not a crush and never was. She’s just hopelessly in love with Beca Mitchell and she’ll have to spend the rest of her life figuring out how to deal with that.

* * *

Regardless, it doesn’t take long for things to go to shit.

* * *

It starts with Beca moving in with Chloe. The irony is that Chloe had assumed the end of Jesse and Beca's wedding meant the beginning of their life together—a new life without Chloe, all things considered. It ends up being the beginning of something, just not quite the life that Jesse likely envisioned. Chloe had prepared herself to be completely boxed out because a married couple, she assumed, typically didn't have time for a tragically single woman who were in love with one half of said married couple.

Or maybe it starts with Beca and Jesse’s relationship souring entirely, prompting them to split hastily and messily. It sends Beca right to Chloe and her new Los Angeles apartment, having finally found her footing in the teaching department.

Or maybe it starts with the beginning of Jesse and Beca’s relationship, all those years ago.

Chloe isn’t sure, but she thinks maybe—just maybe—she isn't remiss in thinking that the story starts and ends with her and Beca somehow. She just has difficulty figuring out how the pieces fall.

* * *

Beca is only living with her for about two weeks when it happens.

When Chloe comes home one Friday afternoon, she isn’t expecting to see a mess in her living room. The rumpled blanket, headphones haphazardly scattered across the floor. Beca's laptop perched precariously on the edge of the coffee table as if its owner couldn't be bothered to put it away neatly.

She knows Beca and this isn't Beca's usual behaviour.

Panicking, Chloe darts around the corner, calling for Beca’s name. She is worried that Beca hurt herself somehow. Her brain immediately conjures up the worst possible scenarios - all of them worse than the previous ones.

She stops in each bedroom before she realizes there’s a quiet sort of sniffling happening behind the door to the guest bathroom.

“Beca?” she calls softly, not wanting to startle Beca.

She hopes it’s Beca. The thought that Beca might have been harmed makes her heart pound and it spurs her into action again. She reaches into her purse, resting her fingers on the small canister of mace (a gift from Aubrey) and tries to still her racing heart.

The crying becomes more apparent as Chloe nears firmly-shut door. "Beca?" she calls quietly. The sniffling stops for a moment before it starts again. Chloe is both relieved and upset: relieved that Beca is safe, but upset that Beca is hurting for whatever reason. She rests a palm against the wooden door, her heart aching at the sound of Beca’s quiet crying.

“Bec,” she tries. "I'm coming in, okay?" She waits, listening for protest. Upon hearing none, she finally pushes open the door. “I – what’s going on?” she asks, trying to stay calm when she sees Beca huddled in the furthest corner of the room, hastily wiping away her tears. Even after years of knowing each other, Beca Mitchell is still self-conscious of her own tears in front of Chloe Beale – Chloe, who is an avid crier herself. It would be cute if not for the fact that Beca doesn't look like she's about to calm down anytime soon. Chloe bites her lip, unsure as to what she can say. “What…happened to the living room?” Chloe finally asks tentatively. “I-I’m not mad. I’m just concerned,” Chloe says hastily. “We can clean it up later, I’m just…” Chloe trails off, gesturing vaguely with her hands.

This moment is rare. She’s not sure whether Beca wants her to approach or not.

Beca finally makes a sound other than a sniffle or a sob. She laughs, but it’s dry and void of emotion. Not quite the sound Chloe is expecting. The sound is jarring and echoes in the space around them. It alarms Chloe because Beca has generally either been sad or happy since moving in with her. The two solid emotions are at least something that Chloe can deal with. This Beca is scared – terrified, maybe – and a little hollow. It makes Chloe’s chest feel tight, as if she’s about to have some kind of bomb dropped on her.

“Beca,” Chloe says softly. She finally kneels in front of Beca and puts her hand on her shoulder in an attempt to get her to look up. “What’s wrong? Did...Did Jesse say something to you? Say something about you?” It's the only thing that Chloe can think of as the most recent trauma in Beca's life – her separation and subsequent divorce proceedings from Jesse. She lets the question hang in the air, hopes it doesn't upset Beca too terribly, and waits.

Chloe doesn’t have to wait long. It feels as if time stops for a moment when Beca’s eyes flick up to hers, but they’re filled with pain and sadness and a kind of longing that Chloe doesn’t know what to do with. She can’t dwell, however, because Beca’s mouth is opening and she takes a deep, pained breath-

“I-I’m pregnant, Chlo.”

Chloe’s world tilts all over again.

Chapter Text

As the youngest of three children, Chloe never enjoyed any structure or certainty, not when it came to things that mattered at least. Her parents often wrote her off when it came to societal expectations of success and even more often, it was no secret that she had been the “unintended” child; she was the child that her parents had solely to save their own marriage. The first glaring fact that evidenced this was the large age difference between her and her siblings.

The rest fell into place easily.

Growing up, Chloe enjoyed her own blissful bubble of ignorance—it was easy to ignore most things when her parents decided to throw money at her problems. It was easy to ignore most things when life came easily to her by virtue of winning the genetic lottery; it was easy to ignore most things because the alternative often hurt too much.

Ultimately, it wasn’t so much that her parents were neglectful. Rather, they were wholly less attentive, less affectionate, and less present for a good portion of her formative years. Despite reassurances, Chloe was never certain of her parents’ unconditional love for her because there was always another board meeting to attend, another fundraiser to attend, and another babysitter to find for her because they had done their child-raising.

In short, her parents had already succeeded with her sister and brother and that was that.

That was the family Chloe knew and not even the amount of care and love her brother and sister tried to instill was enough to fill that void because they grew up and moved away.

To cope, Chloe filled her days with plans and stories. She kept herself occupied by staying within the confines of her own imagination just so she could avoid feeling lonely all the time. She imagined what it would be like to run away. Less dramatically, she often imagined what it would be like to have a family of her own one day.

As a child, she didn’t know what that would entail, but eventually as she grew up, she began realizing that even pure love would never be enough. Or if it was, it wasn’t evident to Chloe exactly how that would manifest, this idea of pure love. And Chloe had so much of it to give—so much love for her parents, her siblings, her friends—but it seemed like not too many people were receptive to that.

Meeting Beca, however—it is love at first sight, pure and simple. Beca is Chloe’s ideal storybook ending and she wants and wants until it nearly consumes her.

But, as all things go, at first it is totally innocent. It is puppy love through and through because when they first meet, Chloe is Beca’s captain; they are teammates and nothing more (Chloe thinks, back then at least, that Aubrey would have had a literal aneurysm if she ever admitted to having feelings for Beca Mitchell).

And, even back then, Chloe acts the way she does because she thinks she likely won’t ever see Beca again, ever after graduating. She does learn a bit later that life has a funny way of making things work out. More specifically, life has a funny way of forcing Chloe into Beca’s orbit time and time again.

It is for the best, Chloe thinks. She enjoys Beca’s company, her talent, and her genuine goodness.

Despite the ups and downs of their relationship all throughout school and even beyond, Chloe will always remember that very first day: Beca, lazily strolling past their booth at the activities fair and the easy way she breezes past both Aubrey and Chloe’s (vastly different) attempts to get her to join the Bellas.

Never in Chloe’s life had she been so immediately attracted to another person before.

The infatuation never fades; it merely developed from that moment, like a photo taking years to develop and Chloe isn’t even sure she likes what she sees. It develops and continues to develop from a seemingly harmless crush and eventually becomes so much more, sneaking into the depths of Chloe’s heart.

She never tries to stop it, that much she knows for certain.

So she just wants from a distance while Beca goes about her life, carrying a piece of Chloe’s heart always. Because Beca will never leave Jesse. She’s had years to do so and she literally married him.

Beca chose Jesse. She will always choose Jesse.

It’s the ending that Chloe rewrites over and over, but she can do nothing to change reality.

Chloe ignores the way Aubrey’s hand tightens on her upper arm when they catch sight of Beca kissing Jesse passionately in the midst of a crowd of their peers.

Chloe inhales steadily, taking in the sensation of being amongst her family (finally) and focuses on all the good. Focuses on the success and euphoria. Focuses on the happy yelps from their friends.

It’s fine, Chloe assures herself. Jesse is a non-issue.

Seeing Beca with Jesse - that’s nothing. It’s nothing, of course it is. After all, how long can a relationship as young as their own last?

Chloe knows true heartbreak; knows what it feels like to be lonely beyond belief; knows how to adapt.

Being in love with Beca Mitchell...well, Chloe is certain it’ll fade with time.

“It’s fine,” she finally murmurs to Aubrey when Aubrey’s grip hasn’t lessened and when her gaze doesn’t grow less concerned. Aubrey is one of the few people who knew. Who knows.

The reality on Beca’s end is this:

Beca’s relationship with Jesse sours pretty much the moment they move to Los Angeles together right after Worlds and graduation.

That is likely her first warning sign, but she ends up sticking by his side because it is easier to convince herself that this is what love is supposed to be. It is not quite what she remembers seeing in her own parents, therefore it...must be love or its equivalent. It is, as far as Beca can tell, support and unconditional love, even in the face of adversity. Whatever adversity is, Beca assumes with time, it must take form in the many hardships that befall them as a couple. The whole notion of “together” and Jesse’s idealization of their life—that everything would work out somehow in a storybook ending. A movie ending to which he would compose the score, of course.

But it kind of just...leaves Beca in the lurch. Does she have an actual role to play? Does she even want to play that role?

(The idea that she would one day follow a failed relationship like her parents is unthinkable to Beca. Choosing Jesse is the result of carefulness and certainty. Regardless...often, she finds herself slipping into a mindsight that both scares and angers her. She wills herself not to think about other choices. Other possibilities.)

It ends up being rather difficult, working in the industry they had both chosen years ago. The hours are irregular, the travel is heavy, and as it turns out, networking in Hollywood isn’t quite like the regular type of job networking that most undergraduate degrees prepared people for.

Those first few weeks of living in Los Angeles, it is evident that much of the allure has already faded away. Beca finds herself wishing she had taken up Chloe’s offer for a summer spent in Portland at her parents’ vacation home, where a few other Bellas would be staying as well, but coming off the high of their Worlds’ championship and picking up a production internship in Los Angeles, Beca figured there was no time to wait. Besides, Jesse had already been living in California for a few months at that point, and she missed him. Moving to LA was meant to be her fresh start – something to kick off her future.

And Jesse...Jesse is meant to be doing his own thing while also being supportive. They’re supposed to support each other. Instead, Jesse seems irritable most of the time, seemingly upset that he still has ongoing school terms to knock out instead of being able to start on his career right away. Further, a new jealous and possessive side to Jesse begins to rear its head. He quickly develops a stark wariness of Theo, Beca’s supervisor at Sony while refusing to dignify any of Beca’s questions with a response, resulting in arguments upon arguments.

Beca finds herself missing the Bellas more than ever.

Fuck, she even misses the hot Atlanta summers.

As the weeks grow into months, L.A. becomes, somehow, even less of a home. Beca grows closer to her father, makes sure to visit her mother in Seattle from time to time, and eventually, one of those times takes her to visit Chloe in San Francisco as well. San Francisco, where Chloe is thriving and taking her ongoing education seriously.

Something interesting about those increasingly frequent visits: Chloe refuses to take any sides whenever Beca inevitably ends up complaining about Jesse. It is...strange to Beca, admittedly, because despite appearances, Beca had actually picked up on the fact that Chloe wasn’t necessarily Jesse’s biggest fan in college. She brushes it off with time and assumes that Chloe simply has her best interests at heart..

(A deeper, more deeply buried feeling always threatens to claw its way to the surface, but Beca pushes it away with startling consistency...driven by a fear of souring her relationship with Jesse further.)

Chloe being in San Francisco is a godsend.

It warms Beca’s heart to know that it is partly thanks to her own conversation with Chloe that Chloe is taking this direction for her future. Studying and working in San Francisco with help from Chloe’s brother...all to eventually move to Los Angeles as she had once promised Beca.

(And the fact that Chloe continues to take Beca’s suggestions to heart...yet another unspoken thing between them.)

As soon as she gets a job offer, she tells Beca, she’s moving so they can hang out all the time.

Beca smiles, happy for her friend—her best friend, nonetheless—and the path that life has taken her. Taken them both. It just so happens that Chloe’s path is going to take her even closer to Beca. Selfishly, Beca wills that to happen as well. San Francisco is just one step closer to Beca and she finds that she wants that more than ever, her lingering problems with Jesse an increasingly-distant memory as Chloe draws closer and closer.

(Soon she will be in Los Angeles and Beca hasn’t yet come to terms with that as her relationship with Jesse continues to persist. Strengthen, maybe. Linger, more accurately.)

With Chloe Beale closer than ever before, Beca leaps on that opportunity quicker than she’d care to admit. She enjoys seeing Chloe and she enjoys spending time with Chloe—Chloe, her best friend, somehow. A wonderful friendship with one of the sweetest, kindest people Beca had ever had the fortune of meeting. And Chloe is so very supportive and encouraging to boot.

The trips to visit Chloe in San Francisco become commonplace enough that Beca actually finds herself making her own connections up north, more than she feels she can do in Los Angeles. The connections feel more sincere. More interesting. Safer. It is an interesting thought, to consider that she prefers San Francisco to Los Angeles, but she doesn’t dare confront the notion of home being in a person rather than a place.

Not yet.

She is on her way to San Francisco one weekend when it happens.

"Are you going somewhere?" Jesse asks, taking in the sight of Beca’s small weekend luggage. Beca looks up from her phone to see Jesse leaning in the doorway, holding his own phone, seemingly having just returned from class.

“I’m spending the weekend at Chloe’s.”

"I thought we could have a talk this weekend."

Beca pauses. “We can talk when I get back," she says slowly.

"So, it's more important to you to go see Chloe and enjoy her life in San Francisco instead of staying here with me to work on our life together?”

Beca groans. “That’s not even close to what I said.” She tugs at her luggage a little harsher than intended. “Jesse, you knew I was going to Chloe’s place this weekend. You knew-” When she turns around again, Jesse is on one knee in front of her.

She gapes at the sight in front of her. Jesse’s expression is earnest and sincere, despite his original faux-irritation (or, rather, she assumes it had been faux-irritation).’

Beca’s mind spins. She knew he was making a big deal out of nothing—

“Beca, you’re my best friend and my partner. I don’t care where we are in the world, whether we’re twenty-three or eighty-three. I just know that I want you by my side and I need you by my side. Will you marry me?”

Beca gapes and stares at the ring in front of her...and the man behind it. Her eyes lift to catch Jesse’s sincere gaze. She cannot see anything but love in his eyes—or rather, she cannot identify anything other than love in his eyes.

She knows, logically, and rationally, there is no reason to say no.

“I—”

I have to go or I’m going to be late.

It’s that jarring thought that startles Beca into action - that thought that sends her crashing back to earth.

It’s the thought that she would rather prioritize somebody outside her relationship with Jesse instead of staying and working through things - and this, this proposal was beyond ‘working through things.’ It was the ultimate culmination of their relationship, something that Beca had anticipated in all honesty.

Still, it didn’t stop her from gaping and pausing, taking in the entire situation all at once.

She stares into Jesse’s eyes and sees only open honesty and a sincerity she has craved since realizing how fragile and unreliable relationships were - a thought modeled after her parents’ own failed relationship.

This thing with Chloe (it would be dumb to not recognize it as a thing)—this constant back and forth—it would have to end sometime. That much she knew to be true. It wasn’t feasible, no matter how much her heart cried out or how much she thought she could sustain this - this game.

Might as well end it now.

“Yes,” she says softly. Beca feels something settle in her chest, like a block of cement as she speaks; as she continues to speak. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Beca doesn’t end up visiting Chloe that weekend. Instead, Chloe receives a simultaneously apologetic and excited voicemail.

While she had always braced herself for it, she never expected it so soon.

Chloe sits, stunned.

For Chloe, her own revelation comes in a barrage of memories, one standing out in stark contrast over the others. She thinks immediately of a hot summer day, a couple years ago. It had been so buried in her mind that she didn’t think about bringing it back to the fore, if only to analyze and scrutinize.

“Do you have feelings for Beca?” Jesse had asked all while staring her down.

Chloe had been surprised to see Jesse standing at the Bellas’ front door. She wiped her brow before she frowned at both the question and the interruption of their frenzied packing.

“Jesse, I—”

“Please don’t lie to me,” he had said rather quickly. Maybe a little nervously. “I promise I’m not mad or anything. I’m actually relieved that you didn’t...do anything about it,” he finished, a little sheepishly. “I just.” He had then run his hands through his hair, looking worse for wear than Chloe could ever remember seeing him. “I want to know the truth. Do you still have feelings for Beca?”

Chloe inhaled deeply and grounded herself, just as she inhales and attempts to ground herself now with Beca’s news still ringing in her ears.

For a moment back then, she wondered what Jesse would do: would he scream? Cry? Would he simply nod and carry on as if Chloe’s words carry no weight whatsoever?

Would he have told Beca?

Chloe wanted so desperately to find out - wanted to see the recognition in his eyes.

(A part of her still does.)

The memory is most vivid, but only because it is the moment that followed that cements itself in Chloe’s mind as a memory, yes, but mostly as a reminder: Behind her, she heard Beca’s laugh and she remembers trying to let that be the backing soundtrack to this pivotal moment in her life.

She had steeled herself, she had stared straight into Jesse’s eyes, and she had lied.

Some time after the engagement, Amy visits. If there is something Beca can rely on Amy for (separate from the many things Beca can’t rely on Amy for), it is unexpectedly showing up in her life and her space. The fact that it happens when it does—well, for once, she is immensely grateful.

Amy’s visit is a buffer of sorts. Jesse seems relieved almost that Beca has brought a friend - a safe, mutual friend - to their home. He is more affectionate than ever, almost making Beca recoil from his general displays of affection, before she realizes she’s shirking away from her husband’s physical touches.

Her ring glints and winks at her, catching the light every so often. She stares at it sometimes while at the studio, in meetings, or even just when she’s stuck in the heavy L.A. traffic. She opts most days to wear the wedding band without the engagement ring, mostly because she hates the attention people give to it and the stories people expect her to tell.

It’s just there.

Amy’s arrival coincides with a recent lull in her communications with Chloe. They’ve delegated their interactions to occasional detailed emails, as opposed to seeing each other in person or lengthy phone calls. Beca cites longer hours at the studio and Chloe cites her push to finish her internship hours before so she can solidify her teaching certification once and for all. Beca’s pride for Chloe overflows and she can’t help but feel surges of affection rise up in her whenever Chloe updates her on her life; whenever Chloe updates her on how much she adores San Francisco, though there is a part of Chloe that still expresses interest in one day moving to Los Angeles.

(It’s an interest Beca does nothing to discourage.)

Amy is excited to be in L.A. and Beca is excited for an excuse to do touristy things in the city she has come to call home. Jesse declines most of their invites, looking like he’s about to crumble under stress at any moment. Beca knows the curriculum at USC has been anything but kind, but she has faith that Jesse will push through.

While Amy is in the shower, Beca walks into the kitchen where she finds Jesse fiddling with their coffee machine. Quickly, she wraps her arms around his waist, nestling her chin on his shoulder. Affection has never come too easily with her but she finds comfort in being able to be close to somebody she cares about deeply.

“Hey,” Jesse says quietly, voice still hoarse from sleep.

“Here,” she murmurs, placing a card on the counter in front of him.

Jesse stares down at the card, hand freezing from where it had been slowly stroking Beca’s arm. "What’s this?”

“I talked to somebody at work,” Beca explains, drawing away so she can lean on the counter surface next to Jesse. “He knows somebody who knows somebody.” She waves her hand. “You know how it is.”

Jesse’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I know you’ve been really struggling with finding an internship slash mentor for next year and it’s still early, but-”

Jesse’s entire face seems to tighten. "I didn’t…I didn’t ask for this,” he murmurs quietly.

Beca pauses. She doesn’t know how to read the tone. “I mean, you’re welcome,” she mutters. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, you know?”

"I didn't say there was." Jesse sighs, retrieving the coffee pot from the machine. “Bec, this is something I have to do by myself.”

“You would still be doing it by yourself,” Beca says slowly. “This entire city is about who you know and-”

“-I get it. You’re in, I’m not.”

Beca prays for patience. “You’re being dumb,” she retorts. Prayers unanswered, she notices. “You’re studying. I’m working. That doesn’t make us any less equal. I’m trying to help you. We’re in this together.”

Jesse carries the pot over to the kitchen table where his mug is waiting for him. Beca never understood why he didn’t just bring the mug over to the coffee table. Another odd quirk that makes her simultaneously want to scream and shudder.

Sighing, Beca follows. “Look, I just thought you would want a little bit of a boost. A leg up. You love talking to people at my work events, even more than I do most of the time. This is just in a different context. You said just last week that you were really looking for a place to take you for the summer and this would take off some of the stress.”

“I didn’t…explicitly ask for your help, Bec,” he murmurs, finally.

Beca’s temper flares. “Jesse, I literally married you. I promise you that when I offer my help on something, it isn’t just a random favor. It’s because I love you.” She softens. “I just thought that maybe you'd want this so you wouldn’t have to do all this…stuff that isn’t…”

Jesse stares at her, finally, though it is in a mildly challenging manner. "Isn't what?" he asks after an extended pause.

"Necessary." She emphasizes. "You know, it’s not horrible to take a helping hand here and there. Chloe is teaching now because her brother knew somebody and she took him up on an offer to have a conversation.” Beca chooses to ignore the way Jesse’s entire face falls. “You have so much to offer," she finishes softly.

Jesse’s jaw seems to lock for a second, then he heaves a sigh. “Because what I’m giving you isn’t enough right now, right?” he asks, laughing hollowly.

Beca bristles. “Seriously? What is going on with you?”

“Let me do this my way,” Jesse says, standing abruptly. “Thanks, but no thanks.” As he makes to leave the kitchen, Beca stares at his retreating back in disbelief and surprise until he turns to toss one final blow over his shoulder. “Add that to your daily email to Chloe. Send my regards.”

Oddly the residual emotion that lingers over Beca’s head is guilt, but she can’t pinpoint why.

At least, not at the moment.

The end of their relationship happens like that, in fact. It happens in moments that trickle through their lives like a gentle stream, until one day, it happens and Beca is staring at the remnants of what she once shared with Jesse: a slammed door, the half-packed luggages, a panicked call to Chloe.

While her relationship breakdown has come in disjointed fragments, the rest of her life carries on smoothly around her. Chloe moves to Los Angeles, likely fulfilling what Beca’s deepest fear had been. She is now regularly confronted with the reality of seeing Chloe nearly every day, much like it had been back in Barden.

(And potentially being even more of a reason for Jesse to lose his cool more than once—too many late nights out with Chloe had resulted in sleepovers and nights spent on Chloe’s comfortable couch. Beca’s second home, fulfilled.)

Her relationship breakdown also happens while she and Jesse attempt to slap a bandaid on their already-failing relationship.

It is possibly the worst idea, but it feels like the best idea because it finally is something they both agree on, despite Beca knowing she would have never wanted this in the first place.

A child.

Having kids. Starting a family. It is the next best step and they’re both in the prime of their lives. So it becomes easier to salve over the open wounds of their relationships with the soothing research put into starting a family. Quiet moments (which are really just bouts of silence) at the doctor’s office. The safety and solitude knowing that they’re both healthy enough.

The notion of sex. Going through the motions because it’s what married couples do.

Anticipation.

And finally, the nerves. The nerves and the arguments when it doesn’t work.

(We’re trying for kids, Beca writes in her email to Chloe. An email because she feels weird telling Chloe in person even though she can. She includes it in the middle of her email, amidst lengthy dialogue about her days, her moods, how much she misses Chloe. Chloe responds with one line—uncharacteristic of her, foreboding even—and she wishes Beca the best, sends her love, and that’s that.

But Beca knows she means it, which makes it hurt more for some reason.)

Increasingly, Beca feels a foreboding feeling every time she thinks about bringing a child into this life she shares with Jesse. She doesn’t want the child to be unhappy or sad. And while she doesn’t think that will necessarily be the case—as in, she doesn’t think it’s a given, there is still a very real possibility with how often her and Jesse have been fighting.

And even more so, with the desperation at which they both seem to be trying to create new life (Beca still hasn’t quite figured out how to phrase that without sounding like a dick), the whole notion of starting a family feels more like a lifeline than a commitment to each other in the name of love.

It just adds more strain on their lives.

Beca finds solace in talking to Chloe again, careful not to bring up too many of these issues lest she scare Chloe away somehow. She doesn’t want to deal with the fallout of not having Chloe in her life because of how important Chloe is to her for her own sanity.

Band-aids aren’t permanent fixes anyway.

“So that’s it,” Jesse says. “Less than a year of being fucking married and you’re checking out.”

Beca grits her teeth, refusing to wince at Jesse’s uncharacteristic use of a curse word. That’s more her style, not necessarily Jesse and his mellowness. “Well obviously when you phrase it like that, it makes me sound like a real dick and you have to know that it’s not all on me. This whole thing between us.”

Jesse’s shoulders seem to lose some tension. “I know, I know,” he says quickly. He reaches out to hold Beca’s hands, trying to seek out her eyes with his own. “Beca,” he murmurs. “This isn’t it, you know it isn’t. It can’t be.”

For a moment, Beca sees Jesse as the same boy who sang to her from inside that car on that hot, stuffy day. Atlanta is two-thousand miles away, but somehow they always find themselves back there, like a pull that Beca can’t quite shake.

It would be so easy to pretend, Beca thinks. But to force herself to be in love with a man with whom she fell out of love so long ago...it would be too cruel to continue on more than they already have.

“Is it somebody else?” Jesse asks suddenly and so flatly that Beca physically jolts at the sound. It sounds unnatural and accusatory coming from him.

“No,” she enunciates as firmly as she can. A dry laugh escapes her and she quickly disguises it as a cough. “Is there somebody else for you?”

The question throws him, clearly, a marker of his own double-standard and he takes two seconds too long to respond. “What? No.”

Beca’s jaw tightens at that—the noticeable pause and the noticeable hesitation. The pressure from clenching her jaw shoots straight through the rest of her head and she senses the beginnings of a tension headache. “Sometimes,” she whispers. “These things just happen and I think this...this isn’t really working. You...please don’t make me stay. I can’t do this anymore.”

Still, he tries. “Beca, please. We can’t get a divorce.” He says the word like is a dirty, nasty word and Beca is almost inclined to agree, but now she sees so clearly that often divorce is the easier and more worthwhile path to take when there simply is no hope. Simply no future.

Usually she’d allow herself a moment to think about what Chloe might say to this, if only to imagine Chloe’s voice in her head, soothing her. Instead, she imagines Aubrey for a change of pace and she lets Aubrey’s steely-eyed gaze flow through her, fixing Jesse with one of her own. “Why not? A shitload of people get divorced every year. It is, quite literally, the solution for when things aren’t working out.”

“We were trying to have kids...start a family. It’s...not supposed to be like this.”

There it is. Beca’s headache pulses. It has always been there and will always be there. Jesse’s idealization of what their life should look like. “You were trying to have kids. And I think...so was I, too. I want kids, Jesse. I want a baby.” Hearing these words from her own mouth sound almost foreign, but she lets the truth flow through her with immense clarity. “But...I can’t do this with you. Not anymore. Not when you told me just the other week that you were having reservations about having kids just because you weren’t getting your way. A...” Beca swallows, battling back the tears that threaten to well up in her eyes. She is so frustrated. “A kid isn’t just some fucking pawn, okay?”

“No, I know that—I didn’t mean…”

“It doesn’t go both ways. You can’t decide that having a kid is just going to fix all of this either.”

“Well, what about you? You were just as on board as I was. You can’t just decide that you’re done with me just because we’re fighting.”

Beca doesn’t have a response for that. Not really. It is almost as if she hadn’t necessarily thought that far in advance. She hadn't even thought this far in advance when she and Jesse were getting fucking married. And here they are. Isn't that a thing? Isn't that what she should have done? Thought about hers and Jesse's future while they stood at the altar in front of all their friends and family?

And fuck. If Beca can remember anything with startling clarity from their wedding, it was what came after when all the dust settled. She remembers, even now standing in front of Jesse with trembling hands and tears down her cheeks, what Chloe had looked like when she had signed their damn marriage certificate as their witness. Chloe's soft smile, fixed upon her face—no, frozen—while she had signed her name on Beca's life. Chloe's gaze—tender and gentle—as she lifted her eyes from the paper to meet Beca's eyes. Her quiet 'congratulations', whispered over Jesse's cheerful laugh.

It's that which lingers in Beca's mind as she stares Jesse head-on, unable to see a future much less a past.

"Beca?" he asks, desperation finally seeping back into his tone. No longer angry. 

Beca closes her eyes to him, letting the image of Chloe's smile be what carries her through.

Chapter Text

“I-I’m pregnant, Chlo.”

So many questions and thoughts whip through Chloe’s mind, faster than she can immediately process them. Somehow, nothing seems completely appropriate; nothing seems completely okay.

Her first thought is that this was all supposed to be temporary—Beca moving in with Chloe while the embers of her marriage and subsequent divorce crumble to ashes. It was supposed to be temporary. Beca is looking at apartments. Chloe is enjoying playing host for a little while for her best friend.

They’re bonding again.

“I’m pregnant,” Beca repeats hollowly, like both her and Chloe need the reminder. Her eyes are red around the edges; her cheeks are blotchy; her lips are parted with each shaky breath she expels.

Chloe finds herself both happy and immensely sad - though she’s surprised at her own feelings because her sadness is an echo of how despondent Beca sounds. She figures it likely has to do with everything that has happened in Beca’s life in the past little while. Chloe isn’t sure how Beca is standing (though now, not quite literally) most days and continues to admire her strength and resilience.

But this isn’t really about her own feelings on the matter. She knows Beca needs her right now and that’s enough.

“Does Jesse know?” Chloe asks finally, sitting next to Beca. Her bathroom, while not sizable, was never particularly small. It feels that way now, as she sits shoulder-to-shoulder with Beca in the cramped space. A strange pressure fills her chest and she swallows heavily, instinctively glancing to her side and letting her eyes slide to Beca’s still-flat stomach.

She can’t believe it.

It’s surreal, the thought of Beca having a baby. It’s not quite in Chloe’s wheelhouse of imagination, but now that the thought is implanted, she can’t quite shake it.

(And the thoughts she can’t quite shake - they’re selfish in nature, but they fill her with so much sudden love and affection that she startles a little. She masks it by clearing her throat and letting the feelings ebb away, but not before basking in the way they soothe her and wash over her.

Selfish, of course.)

Chloe hesitates for a moment before putting her arm around Beca’s shoulders. She waits for a moment, releasing some built-up tension when Beca finally leans her head a little heavily against Chloe’s shoulder, nestling against her comfortably. In any other instance, Chloe would freely comment how nice this feels, being close to each other like this. Back when they had lived together in the Bellas house, it wasn’t uncommon for Beca to occasionally cozy up to Chloe, much to the delight and teasing of their friends. It was still a rare-enough occurrence to Chloe, though, and she always relished it when it happened.

She’s still not sure what she’s meant to be feeling. “Bec?” Chloe asks softly. “How can I help? Do you want me to do anything?” She knows some things about Beca’s circumstances, specifically like how things ended (kind of ended) with Jesse, but she realizes that she has no idea what Beca’s stance on this particular area of her life might be.

Beca grows more distressed at that—the questions themselves—which makes Chloe immediately regret asking anything at all. Chloe can tell that Beca’s distress only grows by the way Beca’s entire body seems to stiffen and from the periphery of Chloe’s vision, she sees the way Beca’s hands flex and release.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe whispers quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I just...” Chloe falls silent, taking the hint. She hums instead, selecting a random melody in her mind, in an attempt to soothe whatever fears Beca is experiencing, wondering if there’s anything she can do at all.

Beca inhales shakily and seems to ground herself for a moment before she responds. When she does respond, her voice is hoarse and wavers, so unlike Beca. It breaks Chloe’s heart. “No, he doesn’t,” Beca murmurs, choosing to answer Chloe’s very first question. “Jesse doesn’t know. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

That’s shocking enough to Chloe, but she’ll respect Beca’s decisions and emotions. She’s not sure if Beca needs to hear anything else at this point, other than words of encouragement and support.

Chloe just nods, knowing that when the time comes, Beca will talk to her.

She simply needs to wait and that’s exactly what she’ll do because she’d wait until the end of time for Beca Mitchell.

* * *

Before this–before the whole...baby thing as Chloe dubs it in her brain, Chloe had been watching on morosely as Beca made plans to find her own place.

In those short couple of weeks of housing Beca on her living room couch, Chloe had been morose because it felt nice to basically have a roommate again. It felt nice to have a friendly face to see after work.

And of course, the whole being-in-love-with-Beca-Mitchell situation.

She tried and continues to try to not be weird about it. Because Beca was with Jesse for years and Chloe respected that. Still, she doesn’t want Beca to leave so soon. It wouldn’t make sense, especially when it took long enough for them to get back together. “You don’t have to move out,” Chloe had offered multiple times. And in fact, she offered it just a day before Beca’s bombshell news.

“I can’t impose, Chlo,” was Beca’s answer most recently, followed by a laugh. “I need to find my own place. Get on my feet again,” she continued, as if Beca Mitchell weren’t the most hardworking person Chloe had ever met.

She accepted that Beca would probably move out.

That was then.

* * *

By the time Beca kind settles back into herself and seems more like herself, a week has passed. Chloe hovers nervously around Beca whenever she’s around, wondering if there’s anything she can do to change their circumstances. She isn’t sure why she tries so hard—well, she knows to some extent, but it’s hard to admit to herself—especially when Beca seems so intent on being alone.

She finally corners Beca on a mellow Friday evening when Beca announces that she’s going to move into an Airbnb. It’s the last straw and Chloe snaps.

“There is no way you’re going to live by yourself,” Chloe says firmly, shutting the closet door when Beca tries to for her bag.

“I can’t...I can’t burden you with this,” Beca mutters, eyes downcast.

Chloe nearly staggers from the force of that statement. The thought that Beca would be burdening her at all is laughable on its face, but she doesn’t feel like laughing. She feels like crying, actually, but she figures that wouldn’t be the best argument to get Beca to stay.

“It’s not a burden,” Chloe promises quietly. “It never would be a burden. Not when it comes to you.” She lets her hand move slowly from the door to Beca’s upper arm. “You should stay here, at least for a little while longer. I have space. I can’t imagine what I’d do if something happened and I wasn’t there to help. Please, Bec. I want to help you.”

You have helped me so much in the past. Please.

Beca is silent, but her eyes are wide as she takes in the totality of Chloe’s words.

The silence is frightening for a multitude of reasons. For Chloe, it is because she wonders if she has finally scared Beca away with the force of her emotions. Chlow knows that her emotions tend to spill out sometimes—often out of her control. She has never been one to shield her heart and in the same vein, she has never been good at controlling her feelings.

The other side of her fear is the brief thought that Beca will suggest staying with Jesse again. Laying bare the truth of the baby’s father. Not for the first time, Chloe realizes that she’s a choice in Beca’s life—a crossroads—and there is never any real certainty, not when Beca craves stability.

Especially now. Suddenly this gamble doesn’t seem quite so wise, but Chloe has to try. “Please stay,” she tries again, as earnestly as possible. “We’ll make it work.”

Chloe swallows heavily, waiting for Beca to say or do something.

In the endless stretch of time that passes between them, Chloe thinks that an entire lifetime passes. A lifetime of could-have-beens and regrets. She tries to zero in on the emotions swirling in Beca’s eyes, but Beca gives nearly nothing away.

“Okay,” Beca says softly. Finally.

Chloe feels like crying. She draws her hand back and clutches it to her own chest, a slow smile forming. “Yeah?”

“Yep,” Beca confirms. “I’ll live with you, weirdo.”

Chloe pulls Beca in for a hug, laughing delightedly when Beca’s arm comes around her, equally tight.

* * *

Chloe immediately buys a new pull-out couch. It’s a comfortable one - large enough, with cushions and pillows. She likes it enough, but her primary focus is that Beca likes her new bed.

“This is new,” Beca says the moment she returns to the apartment one afternoon and sees Chloe setting up the couch. Chloe had taken her free day away from the school to ensure that the new pull-out would be delivered smoothly.

Chloe grins, throwing herself onto the bed. “It’s definitely more comfortable than it was before. I like it.”

Beca pauses, midway through shrugging off her jacket. “You like it?”

“Yeah, come here,” Chloe says quickly before Beca can say anything else. She stands and bounds towards Beca happily so she can grab Beca’s wrist to guide her into the bedroom. “I cleared out a few drawers and moved things around. I think you’ll be more comfortable in here.” Chloe moves towards her bed—Beca’s bed—and picks up the closest pillow. She pulled out her more neutral tones, thinking Beca would appreciate the light gray pillowcases and cream-coloured sheets as opposed to the mess of sky blue and purple Chloe had previously.

Beca gapes at her.

“What?” Chloe demands. “Is it the bedding?” She looks to the bed anxiously.

“I’m not kicking you out of your room, Chlo,” Beca says incredulously.

Chloe rolls her eyes, relaxing. “I’m not letting you sleep on a couch,” Chloe retorts, fluffing the pillow for Beca.

“I was doing that before.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?” Beca asks defiantly, crossing her arms.

Chloe sighs and turns. She stares straight at Beca and raises her eyebrows in challenge. The tense silence hangs between them and it takes immense self-restraint to not let her eyes flicker down to Beca’s still flat abdomen. She figures Beca wouldn’t appreciate that much. She chooses to wisely remain silent.

Beca’s mouth twists unhappily. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“You’re having a baby, Beca. You need as much rest as you can get.” She barely resists from tacking on a sharp ‘grow up’ at the end.

“Suddenly you’re the expert on babies? And having babies?”

“And what if I am?” Chloe asks, ignoring Beca’s rising temper.

“Chloe, you’re being so dumb right now. I’m not kicking you out of your bed. I’m not even staying here forever anyway.”

That ends up stinging more than Chloe anticipates. “Just take the bed, Beca. Why are we fighting about this?”

“We’re not fighting,” Beca protests immediately. Chloe turns back around to face her, clutching a pillow protectively. Beca’s shoulders slump a little and her arms tighten around herself, making herself look even smaller somehow. “I...I just…you’ve done so much for me already.”

Chloe sighs, gesturing for Beca to sit next to her on the edge of the bed. “You’re my best friend. Please, let me help you. I want to support you through this and this—” she gestures around. “—this is one of the few ways I know how. I don’t know everything about babies. I barely know enough about the kids I see every day. But you...I know you. And I know that I care about you. So this is me helping.”

This is me loving you.

She glances down. The black of Beca’s jeans. The light blue of Chloe’s sweatpants. The relaxed state of Chloe’s hand against her thigh. Beca’s clenched fist in her lap. They are a constant clash, if Chloe’s ever seen a more imperfect pair of friends. Chaotic, even.

It brings a tiny smile to her face.

Beca exhales slowly before she gently leans her head against Chloe’s shoulder. Together, they exist silently for a few moments, merely content to be in each other’s company.

“Thank you,” Beca whispers. “For everything.”

Chloe nods, feeling unexpectedly choked up. She inhales shakily and stands, unfortunately dislodging Beca’s head from her shoulder. “I’m...going to grab dinner. Do you want anything?” she asks, facing Beca. She resists the urge to tuck an errant strand of brown hair away from Beca’s face, fearing the intimacy of the gesture and how it would be received.

Beca looks confused and uncertain as she gazes up at Chloe in contemplation of her question. She says nothing, however, and shakes her head, opting instead to sit crosslegged on the bed. Beca watches in silence as Chloe leaves the room.

* * *

“This is such a bad idea,” Aubrey tells Chloe flatly. “I feel like a broken record.”

“I know,” Chloe replies immediately. “I know. I just, I don’t know what came over me. She was going to live by herself, Bree.”

“It’s because you’re in love with her,” Aubrey says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Which is why this is terrible.” Aubrey pauses, as if to let that sink in. It’s not exactly something that’s new information or a sentiment that Aubrey has never expressed before. “Does Jesse know?”

“About what?” Chloe asks tiredly, not wanting to hear the whole lecture from Aubrey. “The pregnancy? Living with me? Sleeping in my room?”

Aubrey sighs, long and hard over the phone. “Does it matter?”

No, Chloe thinks. It really doesn’t - not when everything is born out of the same set of facts.

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” Chloe murmurs.

“I just want you to be happy, Chloe,” Aubrey says, gentler.

Chloe’s not sure she’s ever known true happiness. She doesn’t expect that she’s going to start now. “I know, Aubrey.”

The lock clicks, signalling Beca’s return home. “Beca’s home,” Chloe murmurs in wonder, letting that phrase slide off her tongue. “I have to go.”

“Bye,” Aubrey says faintly, letting a hint of barely-subdued criticism seep through, but still caring all the same. An enigma, Chloe thinks faintly.

Chloe walks out of the kitchen just as Beca turns to face her from the table where their keys rest. There is light in her eyes and a smile on her face.

Chloe wouldn’t change this for the world.

* * *

Beca doesn’t typically have nightmares, but when she does, she knows it’s because something is on her mind. She wakes up drenched in sweat and a gut wrenching, lingering dread in her stomach. That dread quickly transforms into something nauseating—enough to make Beca bolt up out of bed and into the bathroom where she makes it to the toilet before she empties her stomach.

Groaning, she forgets that it’s probably the middle of the night and that Chloe is asleep. Through her sleepy, disoriented haze, she registers flushing the toilet and leaning heavily against the sink before washing her face and mouth out.

“Hey,” Chloe’s voice sounds from behind her. Beca startles, blinking against the contrast of seeing Chloe’s silhouette against the dark room behind her. “Are you okay?”

“Nightmare,” Beca grumbles.

“And maybe morning sickness too.” Chloe steps carefully into the bathroom. She reaches out slowly, not wanting to startle Beca with sudden movements. “Here,” Chloe murmurs, close enough to Beca now to dab gently at her forehead and cheeks with a wet, warm cloth that soothes Beca almost immediately. “I brought you some warm water too. If you want it.”

Beca accepts the mug gratefully, losing her train of thought when she glances up at Chloe. Chloe is standing so close to her that Beca can almost count the individual eyelashes on Chloe’s eyelids. She can sure as hell see how intensely blue Chloe’s eyes are. “Um.” She clears her throat, glancing away. Her stomach tenses, though not unpleasantly. “Thanks.”

Chloe nods, still watching Beca carefully. “Do you need more water? Bread?”

“No, I’m okay. This helps.” The warm water settles nicely and Beca doesn’t feel like ass anymore—at least, not as bad as she felt about five minutes prior.

“Need somebody to tuck you in?”

Beca’s sure Chloe is joking, but honestly, “sure,” she says. She senses that Chloe stiffens behind her and it takes everything in her to not turn around just to see the surprise on Chloe’s face. As she settles on the bed, Chloe follows, hovering awkwardly by the side of the bed. The awkwardness dissipates almost instantly, however, as Chloe leans down to playfully tuck the blanket up around Beca’s shoulders.

“I knew you’d love the bed,” Chloe whispers theatrically, adding a wink for good measure. She straightens the sheets a little before moving to flick off the bathroom light. “Goodnight, Beca.”

Beca isn’t sure what comes over her then. She tightens her fingers around the edge of the comforter and the request slips out of her before she can help herself. “Stay,” she calls. Her voice doesn’t quite come out as strong as it should, so she blushes and repeats herself. “Stay. Please.”

Chloe pauses, unsure if she had just totally imagined Beca’s request. She turns, already halfway out the door, wondering if she will see that Beca has simply fallen asleep. Instead, she is faced with Beca staring back at her, looking small and afraid beneath the comforter. There is more than enough room for Chloe to share the bed without things veering into awkward territory, but the physical space matters so much less when they would be literally sharing the same bed.

Still, Chloe has never been one to deny a request from Beca herself. “Are you sure?” Chloe asks softly because she has to be certain. She always wants to be certain.

Beca nods. Chloe doesn’t look back.

* * *

The couch kind of becomes just a couch again over the next few weeks.

Neither of them has much to complain about. It’s a tender moment between them, though the intimacy is muffled and subdued because of their increasingly blurred friendship lines.

* * *

Beca had been enjoying the pleasantness of Chloe’s arm around her. This is new enough, though it isn’t the first time: Chloe would often wake up before Beca and realize her position before quickly removing her arm and rolling over. Beca doesn’t have the heart to tell her it’s fine, because it toes some imaginary line that Beca doesn’t really want to think about at the moment. Now, however, she’s quickly darting out of bed and stumbling to Chloe’s ensuite, hoping that she can keep down the morning sickness long enough to make it to the toilet.

“Bec?” Chloe’s sleepy voice calls from behind her.

Blinking, Chloe comes to her senses slowly, eyes adjusting to the small amount of light coming from her bathroom. She can see the beginnings of sunlight from her window, so she assumes it’s early as she kicks back the covers and quickly makes her way to the bathroom. Her heart pounds when she takes in the sight of Beca’s tiny body hunched over the toilet – it’s a sight that makes Chloe hurt because she knows how uncomfortable Beca is at the moment.

And yet, the thought that this is all part of Beca’s process – the process of bringing a beautiful baby into the world – makes it somehow precious to Chloe. Like a delicate moment that she feels so privileged to be a part of.

She figures Beca wouldn’t appreciate that very much if she told her as much, so she settles on kneeling behind Beca instead, helping to hold back her hair. She gathers the soft strands in her hands, combing through Beca’s hair as she does so and untangling some knots.

Somewhere behind her, Beca hears Chloe begin to hum, a soft melody that Beca can’t quite place – not that she’s trying very hard at the moment, focused on not missing the toilet bowl even though she practically has her head inside the toilet. When Chloe hums, it’s mostly a nervous habit if Beca recalls correctly, but currently it soothes them both. Chloe’s other hand is warm against Beca’s back as she rubs steadily.

Chloe uses her fingers to gently brush Beca’s hair back, scratching at her scalp gently. She winces with each retch, trying to soothe Beca as best as she can. She had woken Chloe up the moment she darted out of bed and Chloe had followed – the most natural response for her. “You’re okay,” Chloe murmurs as Beca begins to ease up. It’s not the worst morning sickness in the world, but she hates that Beca’s entire body seems to slump in exhaustion. She wobbles as she settles backwards, but Chloe is there to catch her, arms secure around her nearly instantaneously.

(The subsequent swooping sensation in Beca’s stomach – the result of feeling Chloe’s solidity wrapped around her and behind her – has nothing to do with nausea at that moment, but she quickly battles it back.)

"Better now?" Chloe asks, optimism coloring her tone. Chloe’s arms loosen and her hands rest comfortably on Beca’s waist. Beca’s not sure where she finds the energy so early in the morning – Beca’s only assuming it’s early because she feels like she barely slept a wink.

"Yeah, all better,” Beca says, sarcasm lacing her tone. She groans, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry,” she mutters. “Force of habit.” She quickly leans out of Chloe’s loose embrace to close the toilet lid so she can flush. “I do feel better,” she murmurs. “Thank you.” She’s keenly aware of how warm Chloe’s body feels behind her and the loss is immediately apparent when Chloe shifts away from her.

Chloe stands, holding her hands out for Beca to take. Without letting go, she leads Beca to the sink, uncapping her bottle of Listerine. Beca opens her mouth to protest, but Chloe beats her to it. “I know you can do it yourself,” she says, pushing the bottle into Beca’s hands. She smiles at Beca’s disgruntled, yet mildly playful expression. “While you freshen up, do you want me to make you something? Tea? Toast?”

Beca exhales slowly, enjoying the tingle in her mouth after her refreshing rinse. Part of her wants to reject Chloe’s offer on instinct, but she can hear the hopefulness in Chloe’s voice. “Tea, if you don’t mind,” she says quietly. She glances up to catch Chloe’s gaze, happy to see that Chloe looks excited at her response, like she’s thrilled that Beca is allowing her to dote on her for a little while. It’s a frequent-enough appearance these days, the delight that shows up on Chloe’s face whenever she gets to help Beca or be there for Beca.

“Gotcha,” Chloe says, entirely too chipper for Beca to comprehend. She’s sure it’s barely 4:30 a.m.. Regardless, it all makes a swell of affection rise in Beca’s chest.

As always, it’s that affection that makes Beca take pause - makes her think about how she sees the rest of her life playing out. It’s not the model family she always thought was expected of her, but Chloe has been nothing but kind and accepting of her. Chloe’s affection towards her isn’t anything particularly new, but there’s something wholly intimate about how much Chloe cares about her well-being.

* * *

The next few weeks seem to pass in a blur. The days bleed into each other without a care in the world and eventually, Beca comes to realize that her clothes are feeling more snug than usual.

She’s sure Chloe doesn’t notice - or if she does, she doesn’t say anything about it, which Beca is grateful for. That means there are more things Chloe doesn’t notice.

On some days, Beca feels like her body is betraying her because sometimes just looking at Chloe makes her heart thud uncomfortably in her chest. Chloe is nothing but respectful and kind, going out of her way to make sure Beca is comfortable. She has her own job to tend to, teaching at a middle school about half an hour away from her apartment. She jokes that she’s practicing for when the baby comes - the baby that Chloe has taken to calling “Bean” affectionately.

It’s not the worst nickname in the world, in all honesty, so Beca pretends to hate it.

Chloe makes it to her first big appointment. The fact that she attends Beca’s first four-week check-up is apparently enough evidence for the nurses and technicians to assume that she and Chloe are in a relationship, which isn’t...unpleasant.

Beca finds herself watching Chloe more and more, taking in the various stages of Chloe’s unfiltered joy and yes, even her nerves. She doesn’t hate that Chloe is enjoying this as much as she is—it lets her forget about the unsigned stack of papers in her bag, with the words “divorce” ringing all over the sheets like glaring red signs.

“Are you nervous?” Chloe asks, her leg bouncing. Beca’s gaze drifts from the top of Chloe’s knee to her face where Chloe looks infinitely more nervous than whatever she assumes Beca is feeling.

“Are you?” Beca challenges.

“No,” Chloe replies quickly. She paces beside the cot Beca is lying on. “Are you cold?” she asks not at all nervously. “I’m a little chilly.”

“It’s a little drafty.”

Chloe’s eyes drift to the tops of Beca’s knees, visible beneath her hospital gown. “Right.”

“Sit down, oh my God. You’re going to make me lose it.”

Chloe sits slowly, but her arms remain crossed. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Sure,” Beca agrees. “But what are you going to do? Fight the doctor?”

Chloe grumbles to herself.

Beca’s selected doctor is a kind elderly woman who smiles knowingly at both Beca and Chloe when they rush to explain that they are simply friends. Roommates. Friends who are roommates.

“You seem to be about eleven weeks along, Beca. How have you been feeling?”

“Comfortable. Eating a lot more. There’s been morning sickness.”

“Definitely morning sickness,” Chloe mutters.

“Well, this is still an early ultrasound so let’s see what we’re working with here, okay?”

A particular stand-out moment: Beca still recalls the joy in Chloe’s eyes when the ultrasound first revealed the tiny little developing baby.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs softly; she says it so quietly that Beca almost misses it. But she doesn’t. She hears it loud and clear and it makes her heart pound. When she catches Chloe’s eye, Chloe blushes and looks away.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” their OBGYN says softly.

“Oh,” Chloe quickly protests. “We don’t—”

Before Beca can stop herself, she grabs Chloe’s hand. “We do,” she promises. "We could use a moment."

Chloe softens. “Okay,” she agrees, sitting back down next to Beca. “Okay,” she repeats softly as they both turn back to look at the ultrasound.

* * *

While Beca nurses a smoothie, Chloe is flipping through the seemingly hundreds of photos from the baby’s first big ‘photoshoot’. Beca likes hearing what things Chloe discovers through her observations of the photos.

Today, unfortunately, Chloe decides to focus on the size of the baby’s head—at least what’s visible to them through the ultrasound photos.

“This baby has like...a really huge head.”

“It’s growing,” Beca says shortly. “The doctor said it wouldn’t be proportionate for a while.” Chloe peers at her. Beca self-consciously wants to cover her own head. “Stop staring at my head.”

“Like...a really big head,” Chloe points out. “Like y—”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up,” Beca cries, flinging some of her smoothie at Chloe in an attempt to deafen some of her laughter.

* * *

“So, uh…” Beca bites her lip, wondering what Chloe will say. “I’m thinking of...telling my dad. And my mom. But I guess I’m more concerned about what my dad will say because my mom’s...” Beca trails off, realizing that she is rambling. “It’s...it’s overdue, isn’t it?”

It’s a lot to think about at seven in the morning, so Chloe pauses, staring at Beca from across the kitchen before she begins to move slowly to the table. “It’s entirely up to you,” Chloe responds, sitting down at the table across from Beca. If Chloe’s being honest, she didn’t realize that Beca felt close enough to her father at all to tell him something this huge. After their brief moment of reconnection with him in her freshman year, Beca hadn’t kept up much effort to involve him in her life. She hadn’t even asked him to walk him down the aisle. However, Chloe also knows that Beca had been in contact with him over the past little while, particularly over the course of her marriage to Jesse. They had gotten closer, supposedly, but still, Chloe wonders if Beca’s father even knows that Beca is in the middle of a divorce.

Beca, for her part, tries not to think about how pretty Chloe looks, dressed up for work. Her hair is curled loosely and her cardigan is a beautiful shade of blue, pairing neatly with her floral dress. It distracts her from answering in a timely way, which is enough to cause the slightest shadow of doubt to fall over her face.

Chloe sighs and stares into her own mug of tea, wondering what prompted this. “Do you want him to be a part of...of your baby’s life?” she asks, after a moment’s pause.

“It just feels...normal?” Beca asks, tilting her head. “Like I should tell him.” Beca mutters.

Chloe’s not entirely sure what normal is anymore. Her life isn’t exactly where she expected it to be and she isn’t particularly sad about that. She’s sure that being secretly in love with her best friend while said best friend is pregnant with her ex-husband’s baby isn’t exactly in the ‘normal’ wheelhouse. She’s also sure that living with said best friend isn’t helping her case either.

(Chloe tries not to dwell on that - her priority is making sure Beca is safe and happy. She’ll leave the scrutinizing to Aubrey.)

“That’s for you to decide,” Chloe says, settling on the most neutral response she can offer.

“I…” Beca’s brow furrows. “What would you do?”

Chloe’s not sure what she’d do - that’s the problem. She’s not particularly close to either of her parents. She’s not even sure her parents know what she’s doing currently and she’s not sure they’d approve either, but she’s past caring. She’s happy. She thinks she is, at least.

“I’m...not sure I’m the best person to ask,” Chloe says honestly.

Beca stares at her for a long moment. “I’ve been practicing, you know. Saying “I’m pregnant” over and over again, imagining what he’d say.” She looks like she might start crying. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? Caring so much about what he thinks when he was the one who left me and my mom.”

“Bec, no. It’s not stupid.”

It feels like a lifetime ago, but Beca had been sure she patched things up with her father. She had been certain it would bring about some healthy father-daughter relationship - the one she always craved.

Beca swallows. It almost hurts to voice this, but it’s on her mind, burrowing deeper and deeper with each passing moment. “It’s weird. It’s dumb. But I always envisioned myself having a normal life, you know? Successful, making music. And if I had a kid, I’d have it with the person I married.”

Chloe nearly burns her tongue on her tea. Hesitantly, she puts her mug down. “What?”

Beca does a little half-shrug. “I don’t know,” she rushes out. “I just don’t want him to be disappointed with me.”

“Why would he be disappointed?”

Beca glances at Chloe again, meeting her eyes. Chloe picks out a variety of emotions written all over Beca’s face. Guilt and shame, to name two. Trepidation to name another.

“I just don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”

Chloe kind of hates that Beca’s doubting herself, but she hates the fact that there are so many people to blame for putting that kind of doubt there to begin with.

“Do you want this baby?” Chloe asks firmly, ignoring the way her heart seizes when Beca momentarily flinches away from her when she walks around the table to kneel in front of Beca.

“Yeah, of course.”

“And you love this baby? You want to keep the baby?”

“Yeah.”

Chloe is relieved at how certain Beca sounds. And you want me to stick around, right? You want me here? With you? She doesn’t dare ask any of that though, knowing that some of Beca’s hesitation already stems from the fact that they’re both walking a very fine line between friendship and that friendship’s Great Beyond. And maybe more, but she also doesn’t dare ask further because Beca is chewing her lip and looking at her nervously. “That’s all you need,” Chloe promises instead. “I swear, that’s all you need. And I know you’re going to be amazing no matter what happens.”

Beca exhales. “Are you sure?”

I love you. Chloe smiles. “I’m sure.”

* * *

When Beca calls her father, she isn’t expecting that much joy in his voice when he greets her. She recalls that he had been hurt when she requested that he not walk her down the aisle, but he also indicated that he pretty much got over that. And with the work they had put in towards salvaging their relationship bit by bit, they’re at a moderate-enough place for them to be semi-comfortable.

(She’s less concerned with what her mother will say because she knows her mother will support her, but she’s worried as are most children when dropping something big on a parental figure. That’s a later problem, however.)

Beca made a promise to herself years and years ago that she would never end up like her parents. How they had, in her eyes, failed to keep their relationship together. How the divorce had completely torn their family apart. The lasting effects on Beca’s perception of the world.

“Beca, is something wrong?”

Beca chews her lip. Telling him her predicament kind of makes it...real. If she speaks her own failures into the world, then it becomes very real. It becomes her actual reality and she opens herself up to judgement.

She opens herself up, anyway. She’s tired of hiding.

* * *

“I called him,” Beca finally announces over dinner. “My dad. And then I called my mom, but she reacted how I expected.”

Whatever happened with Beca telling her father, Chloe’s not entirely sure. She just puts the two together and realizes that Beca’s demeanor is now changed after her talk with her father. A far cry from the woman who had smiled at her so softly and gently in the quiet comfort of the doctor’s office just a few short weeks ago.

“Is everything okay?” Chloe asks tentatively.

Beca exhales slowly, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah. Yeah - he’s uh, coming to visit in a couple weeks. He was...surprised, to say the least.”

“About the baby or about you and Jesse?”

“A little bit of both. I guess he thought that me being pregnant meant that me and Jesse worked things out. I had to remind him that the divorce papers were literally being drafted as of two and a half weeks ago.” Beca pauses, a hesitant expression crossing her face. “He also...was surprised that I was living with you.”

“It’s not a problem,” Chloe promises for the millionth time, curious about Beca’s intent. It has been weeks now, though—months, even—and Chloe’s kind of tired of Beca pretending like they aren’t completely comfortable with the routine they’ve struck up.

“No, it’s just - he didn’t want you to feel like you had to be a part of the...of my kid’s life and he told me to tell you that.” Beca bites her lip, looking pained. “Don’t take it the wrong way. I just...I know you have your own life and I completely understand if you want me to move out and find my own place.”

A million emotions pass through Chloe so quickly that she nearly has to the grip the closest chair to stabilize herself. A part of her wants to tell Beca that she can tell her father to fuck off. The other weighs the impact of his words and considers what parts he might actually be right about.

“He said I should tell Jesse or he’d tell him himself. About the kid. Which I guess...”

Chloe actually does grip the closest chair at that. “He what?”

Beca takes another deep breath. “I was thinking about it anyway,” she admits, refusing to make eye contact with Chloe. Chloe’s still processing Beca’s words through her shock. “What about...I was thinking - should I tell Jesse?”

Chloe’s still kind of focused on the ultimatum part. “He can’t make you do anything. Jesse made it pretty clear that he didn’t want kids unless he could basically use that against you. You’re both adults.”

“Yeah, but…” Beca trails off and finds the surface of the kitchen table very interesting suddenly.

Chloe feels suddenly like she’s standing at the end of a very long hallway. Beca’s adamant declaration of not wanting to tell Jesse, just a few short months ago echoes clearly in Chloe’s mind.

“But if you…” Chloe swallows heavily. “What—what changed?” Chloe asks tentatively. She’s not going to stop Beca from telling Jesse - the father of her child - but she’s curious as to what shifted Beca’s mindset. It is ultimately Beca’s decision entirely.

Beca shrugs, nostrils flaring. She looks exhausted and all Chloe wants to do is engulf Beca in a gentle embrace.

“Just...tell me what to do,” Beca murmurs, desperation coloring her tone.

Chloe’s heart aches in response to Beca’s vulnerability and desperation. She never wants to lead Beca astray or make her do something outside of her comfort zone.

“I don’t think I should have any say in that,” Chloe says immediately. She wants to stand and flee the kitchen, lest her emotions shine incriminatingly on her face. She feels both rage and humiliation well up inside her.

Beca’s temper seems to be shorter than usual. “Well, you should have a say, since you’re so invested in my life.”

“Beca, I...I’m not going to stop you from telling the father of your child that he...uh, well, that he has a child,” Chloe says as quickly as she dares, trying to ignore the flash of hurt that rushes through her. Not your child. Not your girlfriend. Not your wife. Not yours. She takes a steadying breath. “If you want him to know, that’s up to you.”

“Don’t call him that.”

Chloe’s eyebrow rises. “Call him what? The father of your child? He is.”

Beca’s fist clenches tight. She thinks of the unsigned divorce papers. The judgement from everybody. Her failed marriage. A child growing up without a stable family. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

She hates that Chloe is seemingly being purposefully obtuse. “Stop...pretending like we aren’t…” Like we aren’t something more than friends. “...Like we aren’t being fucking weird and that this doesn’t matter to you! I see the way you look at me."

Chloe thinks she might pass out. "How do I look at you?" she demands.

"Like...” Beca visibly swallows, tension written all over her face. "Like you think you can fix all of this. You can't, okay? This isn't your baby!"

Chloe physically recoils at Beca’s outburst and her heart races. “I’m not trying to fix anything. There’s...there’s nothing to fix,” Chloe whispers, her voice cracking near the end. “I just want to...be your—to be your friend. Just do whatever you want, Beca.”

* * *

Chloe is grumpily watching television when Beca rushes into the living room. Chloe startles, her heart racing as her brain conjures a million scenarios for her. 

We don't need you. I don't need you. I don't want you. I'm moving out.

“I’m showing,” Beca says breathlessly, holding her shirt up. In all their excitement and frustration, Beca hadn't realized that the transformation was finally taking a physical toll on her body. She's finally truly showing—more than just a big meal belly. A baby belly.

Chloe splutters, attempting to sit up properly on the couch now that she’s face to face with Beca’s bare abdomen. She focuses, zeroing in the clear bump, now visible. This is the product of weeks of work going on inside Beca’s body while Chloe had been simple enough to go about her life. She stares in awe, eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Can I—?” Chloe asks, holding her hands up tentatively.

“I haven’t felt a kick yet,” Beca points out, but she nods nonetheless, breath catching when she catches sight of the sheer adoration in Chloe’s eyes.

“That’s okay,” Chloe murmurs, placing her hands on Beca’s warm skin. The bump fits perfectly beneath her hands. She marvels at the sheer love she feels for Beca right then. It doesn’t matter whether she’s feeling platonic or non-platonic love—she just knows that she is immensely proud of the woman before her and that she’d do anything for her.

“What’s wrong?” Beca asks suddenly.

Chloe glances up, worried. “What? Nothing’s wrong.”

Beca gently holds her wrists, pulling her hands away. “You’re crying,” she points out gently. “I’m sorry, by the way. I don’t want to fight.”

Chloe realizes that she is, in fact, crying. She can’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed. She isn’t even angry anymore. There’s no point being angry when there is something this beautiful to be cherished. “I’m just so happy,” Chloe says softly. Please don’t take this away from me.

Beca smiles, eyes beginning to tear up. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

“Beca.”

Beca’s eyes slowly open. It’s still dark in Chloe’s room so she assumes that it’s the middle of the night. Her first instinct is to be annoyed because she rarely gets to sleep through the entire night and she’s sure Chloe knows this.

Her second instinct is what she goes with. “What’s wrong?” she rasps, concerned. Chloe appears to be lying on the bed next to her, pressed close as per usual over the past few weeks, but there is something different about Chloe’s posture, from what Beca can glean. “Chloe, what’s wrong?”

Chloe shifts, closer still. Beca can kind of make out the glittering of Chloe’s eyes in the dark. “Beca,” Chloe murmurs again, in the same tone that she had used to rouse Beca from her slumber.

Beca swallows, blinking nervously now. “What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

It knocks the wind out of Beca.

It’s all she’s been able to think about for at least the past week. More, if she’s being honest.

She nods. Jerks her head stiltedly.

It’s all Chloe needs to know. Beca watches Chloe’s face get closer and closer and finally ,their lips touch, resulting in an explosion of butterflies in Beca’s stomach, entirely separate from her pregnancy. Chloe kisses her softly at first, but it doesn’t take long for it to escalate. Soon, Beca is grasping desperately at the back of Chloe’s head, tangling her fingers in thick, red hair. Chloe kisses her so expertly and smoothly that Beca barely remembers her own name. Barely remembers where she is.

The voice in her head needlessly points out that she is in Chloe’s room. Chloe’s house. Chloe’s arms. Chloe’s mouth. Chloe’s lips. Chloe.

Chloe…?

Beca groans, losing some of the sensation against her mouth as Chloe draws away. She misses the softness of Chloe’s lips and reaches out, frowning when she hits nothing but air. “...Chloe?”

The sheets rustle. Groggily, Beca feels like she is being pulled in various directions, awake and dreaming at the same time. “...Beca?”

Beca jolts fully awake, sucking in a huge gulp of air as the remnants of Chloe’s name dies on her lips once more. Chloe—the real one—is staring at her with a worried expression on her face. “Chloe,” she repeats.

“You were tossing and turning. I think you kicked me. Is everything okay?” Chloe’s worried expression doesn’t go away. “Is everything okay with the baby?”

Beca stares at Chloe in bewilderment, still groggy from being snapped (rudely) out of her (very pleasant) dream. “Are you—you’re here?”

Chloe looks increasingly concerned. Beca can make out the features of Chloe’s face clearly and quickly figures out that it is, in fact, daytime. Or the very early morning. “Beca, what day is it,” Chloe asks urgently.

“I—I don’t know—” Beca reaches for her phone absently, not really noticing much other than the pleasant tingle on her lips. A remnant of her dream. “It was so real,” she murmurs, mostly to herself.

“What was?”

Beca blinks again, turning her head to stare at Chloe. She can’t help the swell of affection that rises up in her then: she loves how messy Chloe’s hair is in the morning; she loves how sleepy her eyes look yet still remarkably blue; she loves that Chloe just stares at her with utmost care and affection, never disguised as anything more or less.

Chloe is significantly less freaked out than she had been when Beca was first tossing and turning because she’s figuring out slowly—morning brain—that it was likely just a bad dream. It still baffles her a little that Beca is being a little non-responsive.

(And Chloe really wants to get back to why Beca was saying her name at all.)

“I’m going to get water,” Beca mutters.

“I’ll get it. Stay here,” Chloe commands gently. She sweeps the bedsheet away and stands, doing a little stretch as she does. Beca’s traitorous eyes zero in on the sliver of skin that shows when Chloe raises her hands above her head and she panics, dropping her eyes respectfully only to note how short Chloe’s sleep shorts are.

Beca gulps. Pregnancy hormones. Fuck them. “Thank you,” she squeaks out.

* * *

(Beca isn’t totally blind. Chloe is gorgeous. Beca is allowed to make objective observations.)

* * *

By the time Beca realizes that she’s a ways into her second trimester—nineteen weeks!—she realizes that she has lived with Chloe for pretty much the entirety of her pregnancy thus far. It also comes to her as a stark realization when comes home one day and Chloe is clearing out the smaller room she had initially used as a storage (and study).

“What are you doing?” Beca asks.

Chloe startles and straightens, wiping off a bead of sweat from her brow. “I was just...cleaning up a little in here.”

Beca can’t recall a time Chloe has ever used this room—hell, it’s sizable enough to be a study of sorts, which is what it seems to be set-up as currently. “Why?” she asks a little hesitantly. The first thing she thinks of is that Chloe’s planning to move out of her bedroom to give Beca some space. The more paranoid side of her thinks that Chloe has somehow seen into her more racy thoughts—ones where she daydreams vividly of Chloe kissing her against the kitchen counter. In the bathroom. In their bed. Chloe’s bed.

Chloe looks at Beca nervously, which only stresses Beca out more. She places her hand on her belly—an increasing comfort these days. The motion catches Chloe’s eye, causing Chloe to take a step forward, hand reaching out in concern. “Are you okay?” she asks instead. “Wait...you’re home early.”

Beca frowns, not at all fazed by Chloe’s proximity. “I come home early on Fridays. Life of a producer. More flexible than you think.”

Chloe reaches out tentatively. “Can I?” she asks quietly.

Beca nods. She’s sure she would be disgruntled by anybody else attempting to touch her (fending off curious and nosy coworkers has been tiring enough), but when Chloe does, all she feels is warmth. Comfort.

Joy.

Chloe’s warm palm against the curve of her belly grounds her and makes her feel safe.

“No kicks yet?” Chloe asks when Beca says nothing. She clears her throat, moving to step back. “Sorry,” she whispers, realizing their proximity. She tries not to stare too intently into Beca’s eyes, not wanting Beca to see exactly how enamored she is with her in this exact moment.

(Aubrey has historically called it her ‘I will lay down my life for you, Beca Mitchell’ look. Maybe not the best look to be wearing.)

“It’s okay,” Beca says quickly, wrapping her hand around Chloe’s wrist to stop her from leaving her space. “I…” Like it. Stay. “It’s fine.”

Chloe swallows, but stays put. She doesn’t dare breathe or even move her palm, simply resting it on one spot against the fabric of Beca’s sweater. She inhales, wondering if now is the best time to tell Beca she wants to turn the study into a bedroom for the baby. A little nursery and sanctuary. Maybe a rocking chair in the corner. A mobile that plays the gentlest of sounds. They could even set up baby monitors. Nobody would have to miss a thing. “Bec,” she begins.

As if sensing Chloe’s total inner turmoil and Beca’s nerves cooking up a storm of tension, the baby shifts—enough for the movement to be felt under Chloe’s palm. Beca startles, mouth opening as her grip tightens on Chloe’s wrist. “That was—I—” Beca blinks nervously, wondering if she had totally imagined it...or if had just been a bit of gas. Before she can find it in herself to be totally mortified at passing gas bubbles right under Chloe’s palm, Chloe gasps again, registering a more significant and pointed kick.

“Beca! Bean kicked!”

Chloe sounds so excited that it only builds up Beca’s excitement even more. Even if Chloe continues to use that horrible (but adorable) nickname for Beca’s baby. “I felt it. Maybe she’ll do it again.”

Chloe smiles. “She?”

Beca returns the smile. “I was thinking about it...but whatever happens, I’ll be fine.”

Chloe nods in agreement. “As long as you’re both healthy and happy. That’s all I need.” Chloe doesn’t intend to say that last part, but with how many boundaries they’ve seemingly crossed over the past few weeks alone, Chloe feels weak with how low her defenses are. She doesn’t dare meet Beca’s eyes again, not wanting to see whatever disappointment or hesitant emotions are present on Beca’s face.

Beca forgets to ask what Chloe was doing with the room, too focused on the deep, complex feelings that swirl through her, somehow all pointing her towards the woman in front of her.

***

“Give me a sign,” Beca mutters to herself. She’s working on music, but everything feels disjointed and terrible. A great representation of how her body currently feels after yet another night of leg cramps and backaches. It’s ridiculous how difficult it is to get comfortable in bed.

That is...without Chloe’s help. Beca received one back rub just the previous week and now it’s as if she absolutely needs it to get to bed. She’s trying to not be so reliant on Chloe for those kinds of things because she doesn’t want to make it weird, especially with all the irritating kissing dreams going on. Hormones. That’s all it is.

She just wishes these hormones helped create fucking amazing music or something productive.

Her phone buzzes.

Jesse
We need to talk.

Great, Beca thinks. She’d rather have the hormones.

* * *

Chloe’s out for a few hours, so Beca basks in the time she has to herself. Or she had been doing that.

Before Jesse’s phone call.

She sits, staring down at the entirely too-visible bump, her shirt pulled up above her stomach. Her skin looks the same more or less, but everything feels tighter somehow and she feels more snug in her clothing, though nothing too unbearably uncomfortable.

It still feels surreal to Beca that this is her life - that she’s about to become privy to the wonders (and pitfalls) of raising a child. Her gaze drifts to where Chloe’s cardigan hangs over the back of a kitchen chair innocently. In her hand, she holds her phone loosely, pressed against her ear.

“When were you planning on telling me?” Jesse asks. There’s a quiet betrayal in his voice, one that makes something shatter inside Beca. She can’t pretend that this is something she can hide any longer. She feels like she’s teetering between two worlds - one where she crumbles and settles for easy and another where she can finally see the world in startling colour and breathe and—

“Beca?”

She startles back to reality and Jesse’s voice over the phone.

“I’m sorry,” she manages to say. She can hear Jesse’s breathing on the phone. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Is it—is it mine?” Jesse asks.

Beca is offended at the question at first, but she recognizes that Jesse is likely shocked at the news and processing in his own way.

Oddly, when her throat finally slackens, the first thing she manages is an apology. “Yes,” she answers first. “I’m sorry,” she says, hating herself immediately for jumping to an apology of all things. She’s not sure why it feels quite like lying. Whether she’s sorry for disappointing Jesse somehow with the fact that it is actually his child or that she’s sorry that she doesn’t want to raise a child with him...that’s up in the air. She just knows that it is a sentiment she feels. It just isn’t clear whether Jesse is the recipient of said sentiment, as selfish as that makes her feel at the moment.

It doesn’t matter since Jesse doesn’t even acknowledge it. “You’re at Chloe’s place?” Jesse asks with only the mildest hint of accusation in his tone. Beca almost wants to congratulate him. Almost.

“Yeah,” Beca responds. “I’ve been staying here for a little while. Since we...you know.”

“Isn’t that kind of…” Jesse trails off, seemingly thinking better of it. “Can I come see you?”

This has been what Beca was dreading. She’s only taking the phone call now because her plans to hold off on telling Jesse sooner (against Chloe’s advice; against her father’s advice) were spectacularly derailed. Her insurance company sent Beca’s medical insurance claims to her old address, which unfortunately meant that Jesse had seen the notice, caught wind of the OBGYN’s office logo on the top corner, and pieced it all together. Beca hates that she can’t even get mad at him for figuring it out.

Beca sighs. “I have to talk to Chloe.”

“Why? It’s your place too. Can I drop by?”

“I’m just…” Paying rent. Living with her. “It’s complicated. It’s still her apartment. I’ll get back to you.”

Jesse is quiet for a moment. Beca nervously fixates on her choice of words. It’s complicated. “You still haven’t signed the papers,” he finally says.

Beca pulls her lip between her teeth, chewing anxiously before she responds, “I...please don’t, Jesse.”

“Beca. What if we worked this out?”

“There’s nothing to work out, Jesse. I don’t want to go through this with you again.”

“Then why haven’t you signed the papers? Beca, this is fate—or, like. I don’t know. Whatever you want to call it. The insurance claims landed in my lap. This is how I found out. It’s bringing us back together.”

“It’s not bringing us back together,” Beca whispers harshly just as she hears the front door lock click open. She inhales sharply, eyes locking with Chloe as she steps over the threshold. For a moment, Chloe seems frozen in time: her smile is excited and she is carrying a few shopping bags along with her usual bags she carries with her to school. Beca wonders if Chloe’s coworkers and students know how lucky they are to see her like this.

“Beca?”

“I have to go,” Beca says faintly, hanging up. “Hi,” she greets, standing from the living room couch to help Chloe with her bags. She’s met with a frown as Chloe attempts to bat her hands away. “I just want to help,” Beca complains, but she doesn’t put up much more of a fight as Chloe brushes past her to drop her stuff off in the kitchen. “What’d you get?”

“Just a few things for you. Who was on the phone?”

“No—” Beca sighs, knowing she shouldn’t lie. “It was Jesse.”

Chloe sets the shopping bag down slowly. “Oh? What did he, um, want?”

“He wants...to visit.”

Chloe visibly swallows. “Did you finally tell him?”

“Yeah. Kind of.”

Chloe stares at Beca with an unreadable expression for a long few seconds. Then, unexpectedly, she walks around the table to envelop Beca in a tight hug, mindful not to squash Beca’s increasingly large belly between them. “I’m proud of you,” Chloe whispers. “And I’m here for you.”

Beca blushes unexpectedly. She decides to tell Chloe more about the call a bit later. She likes the feeling of Chloe’s arms wrapped around her, as guilty as it makes her feel—even though she has no real reason to feel guilty. She does, despite everything.

“What did...what did you get?” Beca asks stiltedly, gently shrugging out of the hug. She eyes the plastic bag curiously.

It is Chloe’s turn to blush. She rubs her arm, a nervous habit Beca notes, before reveals the contents to Beca. “I got you some essential oils, lotions, and coconut oil.”

“Oh, I don’t need all that,” Beca protests immediately. She stares at the bottles, letting her mind wander to totally inappropriate places. She quickly shuts down her overactive imagination. “I don’t even know what to do with all that. Or how to use most of it.”

“I can help you,” Chloe chimes in quickly. “I mean. Like. Show you how.” She seems to blush even more, her face turning redder by the minute. “It’ll just help with...stretchmarks. And other things.”

Chloe is…adorable. Beca lets the thought roll around in her head. It feels so unlike her to use the descriptor word, but quickly blames it on Chloe’s influence and close proximity

Adorable.

So she drifts, wondering if other people see Chloe this way.

Whether people know that Chloe texts her between classes or when she’s got a minute or two during her lunch breaks. Seemingly millions of questions.

Are you drinking enough water?

Let me know if you’re hungry, I’ll get takeout. Even that horrible burger place you like. Extra pickles.

Does your back hurt? Need a massage again tonight?

Beca feels cared for. She wonders if she should feel suffocated (suffocated like how she feels with Jesse, even over the phone), but she finds that she doesn’t. She loves the way Chloe cares about her. Takes time out of her day to check in on Beca.

It's on the tip of her tongue, what she wants to say, but Chloe turns away, moving on with her day.

* * *

Beca stares at the suitcase by the door, wondering where her father could possibly be going in the middle of the night. Somewhere in the house, she hears her parents arguing, but it's all white noise at this point. She has long since learned to tune out the sounds of their fights, knowing that she would be happier not knowing, lest they choose to use her as a pawn in their fights.

"Where are you going?" Beca asks immediately when her father walks past her from where she sits, perched on the stairs.

"Away, Bec. I...you'll understand when you're older. But...your mom and I just need some time apart.

Beca frowns, knowing this can't be normal or good. All her friends have two parents. At least two parents who live in the same house. 

"Okay, but when are you coming back?"

Beca's mother appears, arms crossed and eyes red. "Let him go, Beca. It's fine." 

Beca quickly learns that it isn't fine. Nothing will ever be fine again, not when she has to live with the remnants of a broken family. She never wants to live like this again.

* * *

Chloe knows she should be happy that maybe Jesse and Beca are working things out, but she had been so delusional in her own little made-up world with Beca and treating this whole experience as if it were her own too.

But it’s Jesse’s experience.

Jesse’s baby.

Jesse, who other than being somewhat of an asshole at times, deserves to be in the know at least.

Beca’s sharp rebuke at her not too long ago still stings and echoes in Chloe’s mind. She wavers, hesitating on her words as Beca watches sips carefully at her mug of water.

Jesse is sitting next to Beca on the couch. Chloe is sitting in the uncomfortable armchair she never uses because she’s never had a need to use it. It’s decorative, which is fitting because that’s kind of how Chloe feels. Another ornament in Jesse and Beca’s story. Or maybe a fleeting chapter. Significant, sure, but not the main story.

“How far along are you?” Jesse asks, sounding quieter than Chloe has ever heard him.

About halfway, Chloe thinks. “I’ll be outside,” she announces.

* * *

“What are you doing?” Jesse asks, just as Chloe’s mug is midway to her lips.

“Drinking tea,” Chloe points out, a little unnecessarily, she thinks. She wonders how long she has been standing on her tiny balcony, gazing out at meaningless scenery.

“No,” he mutters, irritation breaking through his tone. “What are you doing with Beca?”

“I’m letting her live with me because she shouldn’t go through this alone.”

“She’s not alone. She has me,” Jesse points out. “Did you tell her to hide this from me?”

“No, obviously not. I would never do that,” Chloe whispers, stung.

“I just don’t understand why she doesn’t want me to be there for her,” Jesse complains, leaning against the balcony.

Chloe’s cheek muscle twitches. “You told her explicitly that you no longer wanted to have kids. Things were that bad between the two of you and you still chose to walk away.” Chloe glares at the pavement in front of them. “Now you’re here because…?”

“Because I love her,” Jesse says simply, like it’s the only thing he needs to truly believe in the world.

(Chloe can relate, in all honesty.)

“You love the idea of her,” Chloe manages to say without an ounce of hostility. She’s kind of proud of herself. “You always have. The shine never fades for you.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Chloe. We can talk in circles all day, but this is only about one thing and we both know it.”

Chloe refuses the bait. “It’s about Beca,” she says firmly. “Whatever she wants goes.”

“And you think she wants you?”

Chloe can’t dignify that with a response because her throat closes momentarily and she has to swallow heavily to regain her speech. Jesse steamrolls over her, however.

“She didn’t want you the first time you met. She didn’t even want you when you stayed three extra years for her. Do you think she’s blind, Chloe? She knows that you’re in love with her. Anybody in the vicinity can tell you’re in love with her. Yet, you’ve only ever chased the impossible because she obviously doesn’t love you as more than a friend.”

Chloe’s patience snaps, the grim reality settling somewhere inside her chest. Fueled by the immense hurt rising up in her chest, she slams her mostly empty mug down on the steps beside her. “If you think Beca wants you so badly, then why’d she walk away so easily? You weren’t giving her a reason to stay.”

“She chose me once,” Jesse says, a little desperately. The hardness in his eyes doesn’t fade. Chloe wills herself not to look away. “What makes you think she won’t choose me again?”

That nearly makes Chloe’s chest cave in because he’s right.

She had been there to watch Beca choose Jesse over and over and over again. They had all been there.

“She chose me twice, actually,” Jesse continues when he sees some fight leave Chloe’s body. “Remember that? She married me.”

Chloe swallows. “And then she left you.”

“Not technically.”

Chloe hates that phrase. Not Technically. It’s smugness and self-assured douchery wrapped up in five syllables. Two words. And she can’t believe Jesse has the audacity to bring it up at all.

“You took forever to get the divorce papers back to her,” Chloe hisses. “I’m not stupid.”

“I sent them over a month ago,” Jesse replies, scoffing. “Everything’s digital. She got the notice through email and the letter. She made me send it to work. And it was only because I kept going back to our old place to check the mail that I found the doctor’s notices that must have gone there accidentally.”

Chloe pauses. “That’s...not true.” Her brow furrows. “She made it seem like...” Chloe’s mouth clamps shut. It is, Chloe realizes immediately, the incorrect thing to say. She can’t bear to look at Jesse’s expression. While she’s sure he’s not smug—not outwardly because Jesse Swanson is a saint for all intents and purposes—she’s sure that he has all kinds of self-validation in his eyes.

If she doesn’t look, he isn’t right and she just needs that assurance right now.

But she does look up. For Beca .For all of them. Because Jesse is still the father of Beca’s child and if Beca has reservations, it’s only right for Chloe to respect them. It’s what she tells herself anyway.

Jesse looks sympathetic if anything. Chloe kind of hates being on the receiving end because it makes her feel so much like she doesn’t deserve it.

It feels so much like Jesse asking her once again whether she has feelings for Beca. Except they’re no longer protected by the walls of Barden, shielding them from the outside world and the horrors of being in love and not being loved back.

The pressure to be a perfect vision of a family, which Beca must subscribe to, Chloe tells herself. She had been a fool to think that something had shifted between them.

“So is she moving back in with you?” Chloe asks, horrified by how her voice cracks.

“She’ll listen to you,” Jesse urges. “Just talk to her.”

* * *

By the time dinner comes around—the most awkward dinner Chloe’s ever had—Chloe has resigned herself to letting Beca move on with her life.

It is not until after dinner, however, that Beca disappears into the bedroom (Chloe hates how embarrassed she feels when Jesse follows her with her eyes) to get something.

“Talk to her,” he reiterates. “Please. You know this is for the best.”

Chloe can’t meet his eyes. She wants so badly to vehemently disagree. To protest. Because she loves Beca and she loves this baby.

“Talk to her about what?” Beca asks suddenly. She stands in the kitchen doorway, holding a folder in her hand.

“Chloe and I...talked about you moving back in with me.”

Chloe looks up at Beca guiltily. She shakes her head a little, wanting Beca to know that this isn’t what she wants, but nothing comes to mind. She attempts opening her mouth to say Beca’s name, but every breath feels like one step closer to losing Beca for good. It hits her with staggering force.

Beca stares at her. “You...did?”

“Beca…I…”

Beca looks hurt, if anything. That’s surprising to Chloe but she tries not to dwell on it. “I thought you were...cleaning out the study,” she says stiltedly.

Chloe jolts, remembering that day clearly. The first day she felt the baby kick. She thought Beca had forgotten about cleaning out the study—that Beca was going to pretend like she had no idea what Chloe was doing. “We...didn’t talk about it,” Chloe admits, unable to meet Jesse’s eyes.

“Bec. Just come back home. We have a whole room you can use there too. We can do it. You know your dad would be able to visit too.”

Beca’s fist clenches tight around the folder she’s holding. “I don’t want that,” she states firmly. “Stop asking me this. I want you to be a part of this baby’s life but I don’t want to live with you again. Or to pretend like we can live in some kind of fantasy. Not when…”

“Not when what?” Jesse asks. Chloe holds her breath, not wanting to get in the middle of this anymore than she already has. She wants to know too—wants to know what ended up being Beca’s exception.

“Not when I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is now. And need I remind you that you decided midway through all of this that you didn’t even want kids. Jess, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Beca pleads. “I signed the papers,” she whispers, holding up the folder. “Just take them and we can figure it out separately from here on. But I still want you to be in our kid’s life.” She takes a breath. “Chloe’s just going to be there too. I don’t care what you think. Or what my dad thinks. I just want this baby’s world to be happy and safe. Don’t you?”

Chloe thinks she might be having a stroke. Or maybe this is just what falling more in love with Beca feels like. Even if Beca had chosen Jesse in any form, if she had spoken up for herself like that, Chloe would have been ridiculously proud. She tries not to dwell on everything else (that was a lot), simply happy and proud to call Beca her friend.

* * *

“I didn’t...talk to him about you leaving,” Chloe says immediately when Jesse finally leaves, envelope firmly in his hand. She wants Beca to know that. “I love having you around. This...whatever you want to call it,” she says, daring to put her heart on the line once again. “This is perfect. I just want you to be happy, Bec.”

Beca is wide awake. She knows this. She can see clearer than she ever could before. 

So she does this:

Beca gapes at Chloe with something akin to fire in her eyes. Chloe immediately panics, wondering if she said something wrong or inappropriate. Before she can say anything else, Beca is pressed firmly against her, hands tight against the back of her neck as she pulls Chloe down for a kiss, more tender and passionate than her wildest dreams.

Reality, for once, is exactly where both of them want to be.

It's you.

Chapter Text

“You’re avoiding me,” Beca announces suddenly, startling Chloe right as she unlocks her car.

Chloe squeaks and drops her bag, a few pens spilling out from the inside. “Beca! What are you doing here?!”

Beca made the decision to confront Chloe after the second day in a row of Chloe getting up at the asscrack of dawn (more obnoxiously early than usual) to get ready, then leaving the apartment before Beca has any real chance to greet her.

(And if Beca wants to greet her with a kiss? Whatever. She’s allowed to be upset at the fact that they haven’t kissed again since their epic kiss in the kitchen.)

“So you admit you’ve been avoiding me,” Beca says quickly, pointing an accusing finger.

Chloe glances around at the students, parents, and teachers still milling about—fewer now that it is a couple hours after school hours. “Have you just been waiting here?”

Beca frowns, crossing her arms. “I was afraid you’d avoid coming home.”

Chloe shoots her a wounded expression. “I would never do that.” She knows Beca is being dramatic but there is some truth to her avoiding Beca. At least, to give them some space. While Beca kissing her had been absolutely incredible, Chloe is wary and hesitant, not wanting to step on any toes. “How did you get here?” she asks, looking around for Beca’s car.

“Took an Uber.”

Chloe cracks a smile at that. Beca’s premeditated plan to “confront” her and then hitch a ride. “So you’re not that mad if you’re planning on sitting in the car with me.” She opens the passenger side door for Beca, raising an eyebrow when Beca crosses her arms. “What?”

“Kiss me.”

Chloe blushes. She blushes hard enough that she feels it all the way down to her toes. It’s what she’s been thinking about, of course and it is hard to deny Beca when she’s blatantly asking her for a kiss outright. But Chloe is reminded, over and over, of all the ways in which it still feels like she doesn’t quite belong—that at any given moment Beca could pack this all up and leave.

Chloe can’t imagine being alone, especially not now, knowing what it feels like being in love with Beca; knowing what it feels like, loving this baby entirely with her whole being.

She just wants to sit down with Beca to lay it all on the line: I love you. I’m in love with you. Is that okay?

As her silence ticks on for far too long, Chloe forces herself to really search the emotion in Beca’s eyes. She knows this isn’t one-sided. It can’t be. Beca had kissed her—Beca, to some degree, must love her in return.

“Please,” Beca says, hesitation seeping into her voice when Chloe is yet to move.

Ignoring the way Chloe’s bag presses between them uncomfortably, Chloe curves her hand around the back of Beca’s neck and kisses her with a gentleness she had always envisioned their kisses to hold.

When they pull apart, Chloe inhales deeply and draws her lower lip between her teeth nervously. Tracking her eyes over Beca’s face, she wishes more than anything that she could just get a hint as to what goes through Beca’s mind. Beca tries to calm her racing heart as she gets into the car, cheeks tinted with heat because of the remnants of Chloe’s kiss on her lips.

Chloe tries not to feel smug, but she likes knowing that she has the capability to put that dumbstruck expression on Beca’s face. When she slides into the driver’s seat, she takes a moment to tighten her ponytail and swipe away the smear of lip gloss along the corner of her mouth, ignoring Beca’s very pointed gaze directed into the side of her head. Instead, she slips her hand over the console and waits until Beca’s hand settles neatly against her palm, their fingers intertwined.

* * *

“Are you dating now?” Aubrey asks incredulously over the phone.

Chloe fiddles with the strings of her hoodie, unsure when Beca is going to be back from work. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“Okay, well Beca I understand. But you? You love talking. I thought you would’ve jumped on that opportunity.”

Chloe lets that slide off her back knowing Aubrey doesn’t mean harm by any of it. Not too much harm, at least. “I know. I just...don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t need me. I want to be there for her but without the pressure of trying to navigate a new relationship.”

“But you’ve kissed,” Aubrey clarifies.

“Twice.”

“You’ve kissed twice.”

“And we made out yesterday,” Chloe blurts out, hand coming up to her face as if Aubrey can see the shame written all over her face.

Aubrey sighs and Chloe can practically see the way her lips are pursed. She’s so glad Beca is out because she’s sure she wouldn’t be able to handle Beca making, well, flirty eyes at her over the dinner table on top of Aubrey’s judgement. “So you’re dating but not dating.”

“She keeps trying to get me to kiss her!” Chloe cries. “I never thought I’d say that.”

“That is true,” Aubrey muses. “I always assumed you’d be the one to draw out affection from that one. Not the other way around.”

Chloe sits on the couch heavily. “She...Jesse came by the other day.”

Something drops on Aubrey’s end, clattering against the ground or against a table. “You didn’t mention that in your weekly email.”

Chloe barely puts any effort into her emails to Aubrey, only doing it to appease her friend. “I figured it was something better said over the phone. Or in person. But somebody refuses to visit.”

“I’ll visit when Beca has her baby or when you two get hitched. Stop trying to change the subject. What did Jesse want?”

“Well...mostly to convince Beca that he’s still interested in staying married to her.”

“And Beca told him to shove it, I assume?”

Chloe envisions the way Beca had pressed the divorce papers into Jesse’s hands. “Something like that. But I think he’s just going to be a part of Beca’s life a bit more consistently. You know. With the baby. I think it makes sense.”

“That’s true,” Aubrey agrees. “Are you worried he’s going to try and get Beca back?”

Chloe thinks about it. “Beca’s her own person,” she says slowly. She’s doing her best to be objective and calm, but her heart is doing cartwheels right into her stomach because all she can think about is how Beca’s tongue had been in her mouth not even a whole twenty-four hours ago. “Whatever she says goes. You know what I want.”

“Does she know what you want?”

“I’m sure she does. We don’t have to rush anything.”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt, Chloe. Or Beca. I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”

Chloe softens. “I know. I just have to figure it out. I love her, Aubrey.” It’s not the first time she’s ever said it out loud to Aubrey, but it still sends butterflies through her and makes her weak in the knees, knowing just how long she’s held a torch for this woman. And now, this baby. It makes her throat tight and her eyes glisten. “I love this baby, too. I don’t know how it happened, but it did. And I just want to be good enough for them both.”

“I know,” Aubrey replies, sympathy in her voice.

* * *

Chloe is kind of bummed that she hasn’t been able to take Beca out on a real date, so she kind of loosely pretends that the quick dinners they share and the little pecks they sneak away are dates. She can see the judgement in her own eyes when she looks at herself in the mirror. It’s a combination of not wanting to put too much strain on Beca and also not wanting to rush things, but she’s kind of kidding herself if this isn’t absolutely everything she’s ever wanted since she first realized that she liked Beca as more than a friend.

And whatever those feelings were, it’s almost unbearable now that she’s in love with Beca.

She just doesn’t want a repeat of whatever happened with her parents. She also doesn’t want Beca to feel pressured in any way—nothing that will make Beca feel like Chloe isn’t in it for the long run.

Because she is.

Which brings her to Beca’s mid-term check-up. Kind of a big one and Chloe has been fretting all day. Especially since Beca had texted her while she was teaching that Jesse wanted to come along.

Chloe gets it.

Of course she does—what’s not to get? Jesse wants to be more involved and he has since cooled down since he and Beca last saw each other in person (since he saw Chloe in person). Chloe never really expected anything more from Jesse: she knows he can be mellow and calm when he’s not actively trying to be a dick. She’s still a little stung by how lowly he seemed to think of her, but once again, she is reminded that he is the father of Beca’s child.

Chloe fiddles nervously with her phone, now waiting for Beca to exit the apartment lobby. She had been nervous all day—a kind of frantic energy that her students seemingly picked up on right away, she’s sure. They had been angels. When Beca finally approaches the car, their eyes meet through the window and Chloe feels herself relax.

“Hi you,” Beca greets. She immediately leans in to press a kiss against Chloe’s lips, taking time to gently reacquaint herself with Chloe’s touch. It is mind-numbingly soothing. “You look nice,” Beca whispers when she pulls back.

Chloe looks down at her skirt and sweater combination. “You saw me this morning, flirt.”

“You know,” Beca comments, as Chloe puts the car in motion. “This totally feels like you’re picking me up for a date. All that’s missing is flowers.”

Chloe blushes, heat rising immediately to her ears. “Backseat,” she mutters, embarrassed.

Beca perks up and immediately swivels to dig around. She makes a pleased sound, aw-ing at the bouquet of flowers Chloe picked up for her on the way home from school. “This is so corny.”

Chloe groans, wanting nothing more than to see whatever teasing expression Beca has on her face, but she wants to also navigate the stupidly annoying Los Angeles roads. “I just thought you’d like them,” Chloe says. “And the scent is really light because I know smells have been rough on you.”

Beca places a warm palm on Chloe’s thigh (shockingly high up her thigh, over her skirt still though) to placate her. “I love them, Chlo. Thank you.”

Chloe bites her tongue from responding with what she really wants to say. “You’re welcome, Bec.”

It’s a date, but it isn’t really a date.

Chloe isn’t sure what the protocol is when all she wants to do is kiss Beca and hold her hand, but it’s kind of hard to do when she’s standing awkwardly next to Beca in a sterile room while they await Jesse’s arrival.

“Are we waiting?” the tech asks as she preps the room and helps Beca sit comfortably.

Chloe glances at Beca. “Yeah,” she confirms. “The, um, father of—”

“My ex,” Beca cuts in with an even tone. “He’ll be here today.” She wrinkles her nose. “That’s not weird is it?”

“No,” Doctor Garcia laughs as she enters the room, cutting into their conversation. “Family isn’t one set thing. We see everything, I promise you.” She smiles at them. “I know you both must be nervous, but everything has looked great so far, Beca. You’re a lot closer to finishing this part of your journey than you think.”

As if on cue, Jesse rushes in with barely a knock on the door to signal his arrival. He pauses at the threshold, slightly out of breath, but carrying a small bouquet of flowers too. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he rushes out. “Traffic was hell.” He brushes by to carefully place a kiss on the top of Beca’s head and then, after a moment’s hesitation, greets Chloe with an awkward half-hug. It’s then that Chloe notices that the flowers smell. She doesn’t immediately say anything, greeting Jesse with a smile as genuinely as she can muster.

“I’ll just put these here,” Jesse mutters, dropping the flowers near where Chloe’s and Beca’s bags are sitting. “Did I miss anything?”

“Not yet,” Beca says, allowing Chloe to help roll her shirt up above her belly. “Except, you missed me nearly peeing myself before they mercifully let me use the bathroom and drink water again.”

Jesse smiles. “You’ve never been able to hold your liquids.”

Chloe laughs at that. “It’s almost over,” Chloe tries to reassure Beca.

“It’s barely started,” Beca shoots back.

“You must be Jesse. I’m Dr. Garcia. I’ve been seeing Beca for a few weeks now. Do you have any questions?”

Jesse looks a little uncomfortable at the question. Beca wonders if he feels like his pride is somehow taking a hit. “No,” he says quickly.

“It’s okay if you have questions, Jess,” Beca cuts in.

Jesse glances at her. Beca catches the way his eyes cut to her hand nestled in Chloe’s hand. “I don’t have questions.”

Chloe bites her tongue to focus on anything other than the urge to roll her eyes. Beca sighs. “You can ask questions if you want.”

“I don’t have questions,” Jesse says stubbornly. “We wouldn’t be here anyway if you had just told me from the beginning. You didn’t have to do this alone.” He shrugs in an attempt to alleviate some of the sting, Beca’s sure, but she already knows she isn’t going to like what he says next. “Or, well, I guess Chloe was conveniently there. At every appointment.”

Chloe bristles, but she does her best to steadily avoid eye contact.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Beca hisses at him. “Can you not do this right now?”

“Today is a special day for all of you,” Doctor Garcia finally says, cutting in. “It’s not my place to say anything, but to speak briefly for the child you hope to bring into the world, I’m sure that child is going to be very blessed to have all three of you.” It’s unspoken, but the thought of Chloe being included in the list of parental figures in this baby’s life hovers over all of them.

It’s possibly the first time somebody other than Chloe has ever brought that thought to fruition. She tries not to let it affect her, but it makes her incredibly emotional. She immediately tries to stifle her emotions, but she can’t help but let out a tiny sniffle, which Beca catches immediately with her producer-trained ears.

Before Beca can question her, Chloe quickly shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she whispers. “It’s okay. I’ll tell you later.” Beca nods, but continues to gaze at her worriedly.

“Twenty-two weeks along now,” Doctor Garcia says, fiddling with her clipboard. “Five months in. How are we feeling, Beca?”

Chloe feels Beca’s hand tense. “In disbelief that it’s been like...five months,” Beca replies.

“Not a very long time in the grand scheme of things. Alright, I’m just going to let Vanessa make sure she gets everything all scanned and ready and I’ll be back in a little while to chat with all of you. Sounds good?”

“Sure,” Beca agrees absentmindedly, eyes flitting to Chloe’s face. She barely acknowledges the nurse’s warning of the gel being spread across her skin. It’s cold, sure, but nothing feels quite so solid like the warmth in her heart when she sees Chloe’s eyes gazing right back at her.

It all goes somewhat smoothly from there. Beca thinks Jesse asks some questions, but she can’t really make out much of what he says because she feels so content to just hold Chloe’s hand. She’s glad that Jesse is here and clearly not attempting to make trouble (not too much at least), but it means even more to her that Chloe is simply standing by her side, willing to wait out this rollercoaster of emotions with her.

And a rollercoaster it is. The entire session is filled with emotion. By the time her doctor comes back to explain the various aspects of the video to them, Beca already feels overwhelmed. Beca, in all honesty, thinks that the imaging makes her baby look kind of ugly, but it’s the principle of it all: that is her baby—her child, growing happily and healthily (from what she can tell) inside her.

“We did that,” Jesse murmurs, from where he now stands at Beca’s other side.

He is right about that and Beca is grateful for whatever happened along the way in their journey to this point. But she can’t be bothered to do more than nod in acknowledgement because all she wants to do is hold Chloe’s hand. She settles on slowly tilting her head to press against Chloe’s, careful not to move too much as to disrupt the ultrasound. Chloe sighs, a content little sound, and squeezes her hand tightly. The simple action brings Beca comfort and that, paired with the sight being projected onto the TV in front of them (even if she can’t make out what she’s seeing half the time) is what finally causes her to cry, near the end of the scan.

* * *

The baby is a girl.

Chloe really tries not to cry. She does her best. But she knows she’s failing when she catches Beca’s gaze through watery eyes. She’s so happy to think of a little version of Beca running around. No matter what happens, she knows that this baby is going to be so incredibly loved.

A tiny version of Beca Mitchell for Chloe to love and cherish and protect with her entire life.

It feels very much like she is made for this.

Jesse is there too—Jesse will always be there, but he can never take this moment away from herself or Beca. It’s his moment, it’s Beca’s moment, and with the way Beca grips her hand, it’s her moment too.

Chloe can’t imagine what she’d ever tell her past self, the one holed up in her room in Barden crying over the thought of ending up alone and isolated, or even the saddest version of her childhood self—the one waiting up all night for her parents to come home after another late night fundraiser.

Family has so many different meanings.

Chloe is still figuring it out. For now, she thinks about the future, one where she holds a baby in her arms; a future where she can gaze into Beca’s eyes and tell her how much she loves her.

* * *

“Thanks for letting me come along,” Jesse mumbles, kicking his foot along the sidewalk.

Beca rolls her eyes and punches him in the arm. Chloe hovers, not wanting to disrupt the moment between the two of them, recognizing that each interaction is a step towards closure. “Don’t be a dick next time.”

“I wasn’t being a dick,” Jesse defends quickly. “You have to admit this all caught me off guard. You basically didn’t want me to ever find out. What were you going to do? Just drop a baby into my life suddenly?”

“You didn’t want a kid anymore,” Beca points out, raising her voice a little. “At least, that’s how you made it seem just before we split. Forgive me if I was just taking that at face value.”

“Bec,” Chloe warns quietly.

Beca shakes her head. “Chlo, it’s fine. It’s all in the past. And I want you,” she continues, directing her words at Jesse again. “In my life. As a friend. And as a dad to this kid.”

“So that’s it, huh?” Jesse asks, smiling sadly. “It was always going to come down to this. Even with a kid between us you’re always going to let Chloe come first.”

“I’m right here,” Chloe finally says, speaking up and talking directly to Jesse. “You don’t need to pretend like I’m not a whole human being standing right here.” She feels cold despite the warm air.

Jesse groans. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m trying to deal with this but it’s hard. You guys have had months to think about everything. To plan. To…” he gestures between them. “Whatever is happening between you two. And I’ve just been so out of the loop. I didn’t know I was going to be a dad until just a few weeks ago. Do you know how that feels?”

Beca softens a little as does Chloe. “I’m sorry,” Beca says quietly. “But you know why I didn’t tell you at first. And I should have told you—Chloe thought I should have told you earlier too. Don’t blame her for anything. And...what’s happening between us is none of your business, but just know that I owe so much to Chloe because she’s been incredible.”

Beca says that with so much affection and honesty that Chloe believes it too. It makes her feel wanted, like she belongs in this little space.

Jesse turns to Chloe, clearly hell bent on having the last word. “I know it must be hard. Knowing that me and Beca are parents.”

Chloe attempts to shake off some of the sting from Jesse’s words. It’s a cheap shot and she’s sure they all know it, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. “That was uncalled for,” Chloe says when she finds her voice.

“You didn’t have to say that,” Beca adds on. “You didn’t have to say that at all. What the hell?”

Jesse finally looks moderately contrite. “Sorry, I just…” He looks pleadingly at both of them. “I’m so happy you let me come today, but I can’t just...not remember that you and I were married. And that we were in love.”

“I would never want you to forget that,” Chloe whispers, looking at Beca for help.

“We’re getting a divorce,” Beca says in a strained voice. “But you’re still going to be very much a part of her life. We all are.”

Jesse looks like he might protest again, but he opts for silence for once. Instead, he hands Beca his forgotten flowers and a small bag Chloe hadn’t noticed before. “Here,” he mutters.

Beca’s nose wrinkles at the smell as she accepts the flowers and the bag. “Thank you. I’ll call you later?”

Jesse sighs. “Yeah...just. That’s some stuff that I thought would be helpful for the baby. And the flowers are for you.”

“Okay,” Beca acknowledges, giving him a terse nod. Jesse recognizes the dismissal and manages to nod sullenly in Chloe’s direction before he departs in the direction of the parking lot.

Beca is furious. “I’ll kill him,” she announces once he’s out of earshot.

Chloe laughs. “No you won’t because you’d be arrested and I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Chloe—”

“It’s fine,” Chloe interrupts. She knows that Jesse is hurting. She knows that they’ve all had an emotional day. It’s fine, even if it doesn’t feel fine. Beca doesn’t need the added stress. "Where do you want to grab a bite?” Chloe asks quickly as she always does after one of Beca’s check-ups, opting for some normalcy instead. She tries to stifle the disappointment in her because she had hoped today would be something of a date. She kicks at a pebble before putting her sunglasses on her face, hoping it covers some of the moisture gathering in her eyes.

Beca softens.

Food after an appointment. Their own little tradition.

Together, they have traditions now. It makes Beca take pause and marvel over it for a moment, watching the way the sun glints off Chloe’s sunglasses as they step further into the hot air.

At Beca’s prolonged pause, Chloe looks back, concerned. "Beca? We don't have to get food," Chloe says, immediately coming back towards her. Her hand seems to gravitate automatically to the swell of Beca’s belly, tender and affectionate. Beca finds herself disappointed when Chloe hesitates, but then, she nearly sags in relief when Chloe’s hand rests warmly over her shirt. “We can go home and you can lie down. I promise to let you choose which terrible episode of Hell’s Kitchen to put on. Even a rerun.”

It’s that moment: the way Chloe smiles so easily and lovingly at her despite being rattled by Jesse’s behavior. “Wait,” Beca says hoarsely, her body suddenly moving of its own accord. She tugs Chloe’s hand in order to pull her closer and Chloe’s eyes only have a fraction of a second to widen in surprise.

Right there, in the doorway of the clinic, with the bustle of the traffic in front of them and the blast of cold air from behind them, Beca pulls Chloe down for a kiss.

The kiss surprises Chloe, if the way she tenses up is any indication, but she responds immediately. The way Chloe relaxes into the kiss tells Beca she made the right decision - that Chloe wants this. Chloe sighs softly into her mouth and tightens her grip around her waist, but it’s all so fleeting because suddenly, she’s pushing Beca away gently and touching her fingers to her lips in such a cliche display of surprise that Beca almost wants to laugh, despite the mild horror rising up in her at Chloe’s gentle rejection. A rejection nonetheless.

Beca wants to tell Chloe to stop thinking so much. She reaches out to tug at the side of Chloe’s soft sweater, brushing her fingers along the fabric once before tightening her grip in it. “I just want you to know,” Beca says slowly. “That I do consider you as much a parent as me or Jesse. It’s important to me that you know that.”

Chloe’s gaze softens and she leans back in. Just before their lips meet again, Beca catches the love that flashes through Chloe’s eyes in that moment. Chloe’s adoration and love for her is so palpable that it makes Beca swallow heavily; it’s the kind of love that makes her want to lock herself in her studio for a few hours and cry over it, but she’s brought back to reality by Chloe’s hand gently closing over her wrist. As Chloe pulls back, she also gently pries her hand from her sweater.

Chloe holds her hand the whole way home; she holds her hand, never letting go, not even once.

* * *

It is only a few weeks later when Beca finds herself inspired.

Chloe is curled up on the couch half-watching reruns of Hell’s Kitchen and half-scrolling through her phone. “Hey,” Chloe greets, smiling at Beca tiredly. “You’re finally home. Want to watch something?”

“No, wait, I, uh—here.” Beca quickly walks towards the couch and perches atop the cushions, next to Chloe. She holds up a tiny USB, waving it in front of Chloe’s eyes. “I made this for you. As an apology.” She holds it up right in front of Chloe’s face. Chloe’s eyes nearly cross as she takes in the object for a second before reaching up to pluck it from Beca’s hands.

“An apology,” Chloe says slowly. “What...what are you apologizing for?”

Beca’s brow furrows and her lips twist. “I mean...I just know I haven’t been...there for you. As much as you have been for me.”

Chloe’s eyes soften, knowing that she can never begrudge Beca anything. “Beca it’s...it’s fine,” she tries to say, but she finds that her voice leaves her at the last syllable.

“Yeah, it’s an apology...and...something more,” Beca continues, swallowing when Chloe’s eyes dart back up to hers. “If you want it to be that.”

Chloe lowers her arm, holding the USB close to her chest.

“I have absolutely taken you for granted,” Beca says, surprised at the steadiness of her own voice. She feels like she’s on the verge of losing it at any given moment, so to maintain any semblance of steadiness is a miracle at all. “I should have lost you years ago - all those years ago when I made poor decisions. I was stupid and young. I should have lost you by now,” she continues, nearly choking on that sentence. “I should have because none of this—any of this—was how I envisioned my life. I…I didn’t see any of this coming. Not Jesse, not the baby, and...and especially not you. You just snuck up on me and made me want to dream and wish and hope. And even when I deserved you the least, you were still there because—”

“I love you,” Chloe says, cutting Beca off, marveling at the fact that once again she has been upstaged by the wonderful woman before her.

Beca inhales, eyes bright as she takes in the warmth radiating from Chloe’s entire body, but especially her eyes. “Because you love me,” she finishes.

Chloe smiles, eyes crinkling around the edges. “Because I love you,” Chloe agrees.

Beca bites her lip, shifting as close to Chloe as she dares, feeling shy even though they’ve kissed and then some already. “And...because you’re in love with me?” she asks, voice cracking uncontrollably. She tries not to look too hopeful—too wishful—but she’s sure that she lost control of her emotions a long time ago.

Chloe nods slowly, a hand coming up to rest on Beca’s flushed cheek. “Because I’m…” she leans in slowly, eyes fluttering shut when her nose brushes tenderly against Beca’s. “In love with you.”

“I’m so stupid,” Beca whispers suddenly, breath coming out hot and jagged against Chloe’s skin. The thought of it distresses her so much and she starts tearing up.

“No, you’re not,” Chloe insists. She draws back slightly, alarm crossing her face when she notices the tears glistening at the corners of Beca’s eyes. “Hey, why are you crying?”

“Because,” Beca starts, horrified at the way her voice already cracks. “Because you’re too good to me and you love me and I’ve just been a total idiot about everything. When all I needed was you and—”

Chloe kisses her. Beca sinks into the kiss and sags with relief, only tensing up so she can clutch desperately at the front of Chloe’s shirt to keep her close for a few moments longer. Chloe, having no intent to move away, tilts her head to deepen the kiss, slipping the barest hint of tongue to brush against Beca’s lips.

“Oh,” Beca murmurs when they briefly separate. She doesn’t quite feel like crying anymore, but a few stray tears track down her cheeks.

Chloe smiles and brushes away her tears. “Shut up,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss Beca again. She doesn’t expect Beca to say it back—the coveted I love you, too—at least, not right away. It means so much to her that Beca even thought about all this when she had so much going on in her life.

“You shut up,” Beca mutters, eyes slipping closed as she slips into the most intoxicating pair of lips she’s ever had the fortune to experience.

Their kiss escalates a little when Beca’s hands tangle delightfully in Chloe’s hair. She tugs playfully, pushing closer as much as she dares before she finally swings a leg over Chloe’s lap.

“We shouldn’t,” Chloe breathes out, pressing her hands against Beca’s shoulders. She wants to kiss Beca like, a ridiculous amount, but she doesn’t want to rush things. It feels a little bit like she’s attempting to live out her fantasy of dating Beca as if they haven’t done things completely out of order to begin with.

Beca huffs. “Am I too heavy?”

Chloe blinks, running the question through her mind again and again because she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing. “What?” she asks, laughing. “No, of course not.”

“You think I’m ugly now that I’m this pregnant.”

“No!” Chloe can’t help but laugh again, doing her best not to overdo it in case Beca is further offended. “You are...very hot.” She pushes herself up a little, careful not to dislodge Beca too far off her lap. “But that’s not why I like you.”

Beca peers at her with a serious expression before she cracks up, pressing her forehead against Chloe’s shoulder. “I...like you too,” Beca murmurs after a moment, still pressed against Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe lifts her hands to rub Beca’s back comfortingly. “Obviously as more than a friend.”

“We’re doing this all backwards,” Chloe whispers. “How about I listen to your mixes and you let me take you out on another date. A real one this time.”

“You didn’t think it was super romantic that we did a double date with my OBGYN and Jesse?”

“Oh you know what? You’re right. That was definitely a real and romantic date. We should ask him to come along again.”

The smile slips off Beca’s face. “Hey. Only I’m allowed to joke about that.”

* * *

“Hey,” Chloe rasps as she’s slowly pulled awake by the sensation of Beca’s attempt at subtlety: the feeling of Beca’s firm belly pressing against her back and Beca’s arm snaking around her middle. “Why are you awake?” Chloe draws Beca’s arm tighter around herself. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t,” Beca murmurs with a shaky voice. “I had a nightmare.”

The first thing Chloe thinks of is how much this feels like the very first night Beca had asked Chloe to sleep with her after a nightmare. They’ve come so far since then. “What happened?”

“You…you left.”

Maybe it’s the late hour, but Chloe’s mind struggles to catch up with the absurdity of Beca’s claim. The worry in Beca’s voice, however, she wants to deal with right away. She turns and rubs her hand over her face before turning her head to face Beca. “I left?” she asks for clarification.

“I don’t know,” Beca groans. The sheets rustle as Beca flops onto her back. “I don’t know. It’s like this dumb recurring thing that goes through my mind. I’m scared of losing you.”

Chloe hadn’t entirely considered that this was something that Beca was terribly afraid of. It breaks her heart that she hadn’t picked up on any of this and she wishes nothing more than to be able to ease that burden off Beca’s shoulders. Mostly because Beca is so totally wrong.

“I can’t do that,” Beca murmurs. “I can’t handle you leaving.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Chloe assures. “I stuck around when you picked that shade of yellow that I specifically told you not to pick, didn’t I? The one for the baby’s room?”

Beca smacks her shoulder. “Don’t joke about leaving.”

“I could never. I would never.”

“You can’t make promises like that.”

Chloe knows the feeling far too well—the constant fear of not being worth sticking around for, coupled with the fear of simply not feeling like enough. She doesn’t begrudge Beca for feeling that way (she would never), especially knowing how Beca feels about her own family.

“You’re probably right,” Chloe agrees. “But I’m going to anyway because I think...one day we’ll both believe it.”

Beca’s lips part in a tired exhale. She is silent for a while, thinking. “I’m...that’s what I did, wasn’t it? I left you. I didn’t...pick you.”

Chloe isn’t sure how to answer that. She never begrudged Beca for any of that. Regardless of how Chloe herself felt, she never blamed Beca or resented her for her decisions. She just wanted Beca to be happy and she is so incredibly proud of Beca and the woman she has become in just a few short years of knowing each other. “It’s okay,” Chloe finally says, cutting through the tension in their room. Her body is beginning to ache—a common occurrence these days—with the strain of the day (painting the baby’s room) and now this: the heaviness of being in love. It is a comforting ache and one that she has freely settled into. “You never left me. We just had different plans for a while.”

Beca breathes steadily for a long while, eyes glittering in the darkness as she and Chloe stare at each other. The room seems to swell with each breath they take.

“I see you in my future, you know,” Beca finally mumbles. She nestles her head against her pillow, keeping her eyes trained on Chloe in the darkness. “Like...you’ve always been there. I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

“I...love you,” Chloe breathes out. She cups Beca’s cheek, stroking the soft skin she finds there with her thumb. “I love you and I love this baby so much.” Chloe struggles to reel in her emotions, just a little at least. “I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

Chloe closes her eyes, basking in the sound of those words leaving Beca’s mouth. The last time she heard them, she had been standing at the alter with Beca in entirely different circumstances. She had watched as Beca said those words to a man she would later separate from—something that Chloe would have never anticipated. Then, just as now, Chloe had longed for Beca to pick her.

Beca did pick her.

“I want to be here. For as long as you’ll let me.”

Tears spring to Beca’s eyes. “I do want you here.”

“I want to help you raise her. That’s what I see in my future. All of us. It’s what I’ve always wanted but I never knew if I’d ever get the chance or if I’d ever be good enough for you.”

“Kiss me,” Beca pleads quietly even though she’s already tilting her head towards Chloe’s.

Chloe brushes the tip of her nose against Beca’s cheek briefly, daring to breathe out only once. Her breath barely ghosts against Beca’s lips before she kisses her, mouth already parted to welcome Beca’s lips and tongue. It is slow only for a moment, but the intensity picks up exponentially when Beca whimpers against her mouth and she pulls sharply at the waistband of Chloe’s sleep shorts.

“I love you,” Beca whispers. “I love you so much.”

Chloe’s hand curves over Beca’s side, sliding up her shirt as she goes. Beca helps her get the shirt off the rest of the way, breathing heavily in her excitement. Chloe nods eagerly against Beca’s kisses, barely able to fully appreciate the sight of Beca without her shirt on before their lips begin moving together again, frantically and passionately. “I love you, too,” she manages to get out between Beca’s little nips to her mouth. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” Beca repeats faintly, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of Chloe’s lips on her neck.

That is probably still the best thing Chloe has ever heard. It’s up there, along with the sound of hearing the baby’s heartbeat vividly for the first time.

It is closely followed by the sound Beca makes when Chloe’s hand dips between her legs for the first time.

Chloe is never going to listen to music the same way again.

* * *

The weeks seem to fly by from then on. Beca loses herself in a perfect storm of prepping for the baby delivery, finalizing her divorce, and Chloe.

(Except when Chloe insists on doing everything for her. Beca likes being doted on, but only within her own limits. She can get her own water. But if Chloe wants to massage her back—preferably sans clothes—she’s perfectly okay with that too.)

Every time Beca looks at Chloe, all she sees is the mother of her child. All she sees is her partner, for as long as she can remember. Back when she had barely believed in herself, Chloe had seen the best in her.

She says as much to Chloe one day, while they lounge lazily on the couch after a random afternoon quickie. Chloe’s hand stops from where it is trailing slowly up and down Beca’s arm. “I always thought that you were the one who made me feel most like me. That you made...feel like I could be the best version of myself. I think you just had that effect on so many people and you didn’t even realize it.” Chloe’s lips graze her cheek, then her ear, where she tenderly tucks a stray hair away. “It’s how I know you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

Beca shivers, affected by both Chloe’s touch and Chloe’s words. She is already warm, due to her proximity to Chloe, but she warms further, flushed by the love she feels between both of them. It is so much more than she has ever felt before; it is better than every idealized version of love she let herself believe to be what she deserved in the past.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom too,” Beca promises, tilting her head up to kiss Chloe on the lips. Chloe’s hand cups her cheek briefly, leaning further into the kiss before she moves her hand over the swell of Beca’s bump.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Beca smiles into the kiss. “Me too.”

* * *

Chloe’s arm is warm and snug around her middle. She’s cradling Beca protectively, like she’s afraid something will steal her in the middle of the night. Like she’s afraid - as she articulated the night before - that something will wake her up and Beca will be gone before they’ve even had a chance to fully live out their life together.

And of course, the gentle yet firm curl of Chloe’s fingers against her belly (a reminder that Chloe is as much looking forward to this baby), this miracle that Beca has become increasingly thankful for with each passing day. Beca exhales happily against her pillow, cuddling back into Chloe’s warm body. The warm slide of their legs against each other only reminds her of how they ended up sprawled in bed like this. After a night of talking and trading soft kisses, they both are in the same place, finally ready to move forward together.

(It only took them a few years, an entire marriage, and a surprise pregnancy.)

Chloe’s head is nestled somewhat against the back of her neck and she’s snoring quietly, relaxed and unaware.

Beca wants to bask in the moment. She actually wants to wake Chloe up if she’s being honest, but Chloe’s sleep has been impacted by Beca’s own haywire schedule. They’re basically right on top of Beca’s due date at this point and her body is already attempting to make her hate herself. She needs to pee all the fucking time. Her back aches. The baby’s head is pressing into uncomfortable places (and not because of a large head inherited from Beca as Chloe enjoys bringing up).

It’s then that Beca’s body kind of decides for her that she’s going to have to wake Chloe up anyway. She’s been trying to ignore the faint cramping feelings she’s been getting on and off, but it’s kind of worrying her as she lies awake that they’re not going away like they usually do. And that they’re maybe getting a bit stronger.

She can’t hide the grunt of pain that eases out of her with her next lengthy contraction, this one even more evident than the last.

“Oh no,” she mumbles, moving Chloe’s arm from around her. “Chlo. Wake up.”

* * *

“You did this to me,” Beca grumbles, glaring at Chloe because it’s the best she can do.

Chloe’s cheeks turn red immediately. She glances at the nurse helping with Beca’s vitals. “I didn’t do this to you.”

Beca groans, slamming her head back against the pillow. “I know but Jesse’s fucking late as usual and I always wanted to say that. Fuck him for having an out of town meeting.”

Chloe smirks, but Beca can tell she isn’t being mean about it. “He is going to be late, isn’t he? The audacity.”

“Oh, stop enjoying this.”

Chloe bites her lip and extends her hand for Beca to take, which she does, gratefully. “I’m so nervous,” Chloe confesses. “I can’t wait to meet her. But I want to take all this pain away from you.”

Beca begins tearing up, forgetting the physical toil on her body for the moment. “I love you. Fuck you for making me cry.”

Chloe grins at her, leaning down to press a kiss against Beca’s sweaty forehead. “Proud of you always, Bec. And Aubrey told me to tell you she’s proud of you too.”

Beca closes her eyes at the soft sensation of Chloe’s lips against her forehead. Her lips feel blessedly cool and tender in contrast with how overheated Beca feels. “When did Aubrey find out?”

“I was texting her while you were biting the nurse’s head off about your contractions.”

“I can’t do this for another hour,” Beca complains, eyes slamming shut.

Chloe pulls a chair up with her free hand, eyeing Beca sympathetically. “Babe, it’s only been like two hours, barely. The nurse said she thinks we’ll be here for a really long time.”

Beca squeezes her hand aggressively. She is annoyed when Chloe doesn’t even flinch.

* * *

Beca opens her eyes to a new world.

“Hi,” Chloe says softly. “Hi there, darling.” She isn’t speaking to Beca, not even close.

She is speaking to a tiny bundle. Beca blinks some of the tired haze away, desperate to see exactly what happens next. Her entire world, before her eyes.

Olivia opens her eyes, blinking curiously at Chloe. It is a wonder-filled gaze if Beca has ever seen one. Chloe extends a finger to gently touch Olivia’s impossibly soft cheek, sighing in awe when Olivia’s face scrunches and she yawns, followed by a gurgle. “Hello!” Chloe exclaims softly when Olivia’s eyes refocus on her. “How are you?”

It all makes Beca want to cry, watching Chloe interact with her daughter like this. It feels natural and right, watching this.

“She likes you,” Beca mumbles, exhaustion threatening to creep up on her.

Chloe’s eyes never stray once from Olivia. “She’s so beautiful, Bec.”

No, Beca thinks. This is beautiful. You’re beautiful. Like this.

My family.

Chloe presses the gentlest of kisses to Olivia’s forehead, then shifts to do the same for Beca. She hesitates momentarily, but when her lips brush and linger against Beca’s skin, Beca feels every emotion surge to the surface. They bubble beneath her skin and war for space in her chest.

She’s so in love with Chloe Beale.

Beca’s eyelids flutter at the softness of Chloe’s lips against her heated skin. She feels the loss keenly when Chloe inhales and finally shifts away. Beca feels exhaustion ripple through her.

“Wait,” Beca murmurs, knowing she’ll regret it if sleep overcomes her. She can hear the attending nurse beside her, ready to bring Olivia back to the maternity ward. Chloe pauses, halfway out of bed, looking so comfortable with Olivia in her arms. Beca knows then, with so much certainty that it threatens to burst out of her, that Chloe is it for her. She’s not sure she knew such safety or happiness before Chloe Beale.

She just doesn’t know how to articulate all that. Not when Chloe is watching her carefully, cradling Olivia delicately in her arms.

“Beca,” Chloe says softly, allowing the nurse to take Olivia away momentarily. She stares back at Beca worriedly when Beca is yet to say anything. “What’s wrong? Do you want to see her again?” Chloe asks, putting a hand out to stop the nurse.

Beca laughs weakly. Of course she does. She already misses her baby with everything in her. She never wants to let her out of her sight again. Still, she finds strength, shaking her head in the process. She gestures for Chloe to come closer, which she does instantly. “I love you,” Beca murmurs. “Just stay for a moment.”

Chloe’s eyes soften and well up all at once. “For as long as you need, Bec. We have all the time in the world.”