A/N: So I randomly decided to redo/add to this little fic that I published probably over a year ago. Don't know what made me do it, but I hope that you enjoy it. There will be a third chapter to wrap it up. Review?
"Stace. Stacie, you need to wake up." Stacie whimpers in her sleep, the low, gravelly voice sifting through her dreams and morphing into uncomfortable visions. She thrashes in the sheets, her face screwed up in pain. They tangle around her legs, ensnaring her in a tight cocoon from which she cannot escape, which only serves to make her more frantic.
"Stacie, hun, please wake up. We're here. We're all here." A different voice, softer now, more gentle in tone, jolts the nineteen-year-old brunette from her feverish nightmare, sweating. Stupefied, she blinks up at the blaring lights above her as, in the corner, a faceless shadow of a person switches them on. With a yell, she rolls over and buries her face in the pillow. When a gentle hand lands lightly on her shoulder, she flinches away with a cry.
"No! Don't touch me! Don't hurt me again, please! I swear I'll be good, I promise!"
"Stace, girl, it's us. The Bellas." Breathing deeply into her pillowcase, sucking the taste of cotton down onto the back of her tongue, Stacie slowly begins to register the voices of her fellow Bellas. Not quite ready to open her eyes, she takes a moment to devote her senses to identifying her situation. The pillow she's smothering herself with smells like her own shampoo, which is comforting; she's home in her own bed. Surrounding her, she can hear the collective sound of concerned murmurs, quiet breathing, and the shuffling of feet. When she focuses, she finds that she can pick out individual sounds that serve to identify her companions – Jessica's quick, asthmatic breathing; Lily's tiny voice; Chloe's warm, soothing scent.
After taking a minute to collect herself, she rolls onto her back with a sigh, cheeks streaked wetly with tears. Cynthia Rose immediately peers down from the bedside with wide, concerned eyes.
"You okay sho shank?" Amy's voice issues from somewhere in the back of the group. Stacie smiles weakly as the faces of the other Bellas come into sharper focus all around her.
"Yeah. I – I'm fine guys. Just a bad dream." As her eyes travel over the group, she notices that one of their number is missing. "Where's Aubrey?" The other Bellas share a glance.
"Stacie," Beca starts tentatively, after a long moment of silence. Stacie's eyes snap to her instantly and hold her gaze, prompting her to continue. "She's been pretty torn up about this. After she saved you the other night, she just sort of – shut down. You were all covered in bruises, and you looked so sick. She was so scared she was going to lose you." Stacie struggles to swallow down the lump in her throat.
"It was her?" she croaks.
All she knew was that it hurt. It hurt so much. She had been injured uncountable as a young girl – that time that the front tire of her bike had jammed going down a hill, and she had flipped over; the time she and her cousin had been fighting over the tire swing, and she had fallen out and broken her arm – but she had never experienced physical pain to this degree. Her wrists were burning and her head ached where he had kicked her. Every time she moved, the sharp pain in her ribs went off like a gunshot, reverberating off the walls of her diaphragm. Her back was bruised and her head felt swollen and heavy, and her stomach ached in a way that she knew went far beyond the pain of muscles stretched past their limit.
She curled in around herself on the floor, attempting to shield her vital organs and the soft, pillowy flesh of her stomach as he landed blow after blow upon her back, her ribs, her shoulders . . . he was going to kill her . . . he was going to kill the baby, and she hadn't even told anybody . . . and then there was yelling, and the impact of a heavy object against pliant flesh; the sound of someone hitting the floor, followed by a soothing, melodic voice and a tender caress to her hair.
"Stacie. Stacie, honey, wake up. You're okay; we've got you. He's never going to hurt you again, Stace. I promise. I'll protect you. Stacie, please wake up! Please! I love you! Oh god, I should never have let you come to sort things out with him! This is all my fault! Don't leave me now, please!"
She's jolted abruptly out of the flashback by Chloe tapping her on the shoulder.
"Stace? You okay? I said should we tell her you're awake?" Without meeting Chloe's glance, Stacie throws off the covers and is out of bed before the others can protest. A loud chorus of objections meets her actions, but she ignores them, looking straight at Fat Amy, the sole person she has confided in.
She has to tell Aubrey about her secret.
"I need to see her." Her voice is hoarse and gravelly with lack of use. Already, standing is painful; her body aches everywhere, and she's pretty sure that her not-quite-mended ribs are straining as she stretches. She quavers on her feet, nearly losing her balance.
"Watch yourself, girl," is Amy's only comment as she moves out of the way. Concerned, Chloe attempts to follow, but the Tasmanian girl blocks the path. "Give her a minute, ginger. She needs to do this one alone." Stacie shoots her a grateful smile, and tosses Chloe a reassuring glance. She doesn't want to make them worry – by the looks of it, they've been concerned enough on her behalf – but this is necessary. She has to tell Aubrey the truth.
With a dismissive wave of her hand toward Cynthia Rose, who has begun to protest, she slips out into the living room, clicking the door shut quietly behind her.
It only takes her a moment in the hazy afternoon light to locate her; Aubrey sits on the couch with her back to the door, head in her hands as her body quivers with sobs.
"Bree?" Aubrey jumps a mile high at the sound of her voice. Quickly, she stands, and when her eyes meet brunette's, she hurries over to her, all else forgotten. The usually calm, collected Bella is a wreck, makeup running down her face, eyes rimmed with red and bloodshot. It looks as though she's been crying for days. Stacie feels a painful tug to her heart.
She hadn't planned on telling her before this all had happened, but with so much desperation visible in the blonde's face, it's going to prove impossible not to.
"Baby," the blonde murmurs, carefully pulling Stacie into a gentle hug. "Thank God. Thank God thank God thank God." When she releases her, her emerald eyes are wide with anxiety as she hovers over her girlfriend worriedly. "Are you okay? Stupid question, of course you're not okay. Are you feeling any better? Can I get you some water, or some food, or anything? Do you want ice? How do you ribs feel? Do you . . ." she trails off at the fresh tears streaking their way down the younger girl's face.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Her tone immediately becomes distraught once more. Stacie lowers her eyes to the floor.
"Aubrey, I . . . I don't know how to . . ."
"Stace, sweetie, what's going on? What do you need?" Stacie raises her gaze to see Aubrey watching her with eyes filled with angst, and swallows. Tears sting at the corners of her eyes.
"I . . . I don't know how to say this to you," she tries again, her voice shaky. "I don't want you to be upset with me, but . . . there isn't really any way for me to tell you other than to just come out and say it." She pauses and draws a deep breath, not wanting to meet Aubrey's eyes, but unwilling to look away if this is the last time she'll be able to look into them without seeing disgust or anger staring back. "I'm pregnant, Bree," she lets out in a rush. Aubrey freezes.
Stacie transfers her gaze to the rug, deadpanning as she explains in a flat tone of voice what happened.
"Right before I broke up with him, Todd and I had sex. I didn't really want to do it, because I knew that I was going to break up with him soon, but he had been really sweet that week, and I felt like I owed it to him to at least do something nice before I broke his heart. That was three months ago. I started feeling sick about a month after I started dating you but I thought it was just the flu. Then it didn't get any better, and I didn't have a fever or anything to go with it, so I started wondering. I told Amy last week, and she made me take the test. It came back as positive." She raises her eyes slowly to meet Aubrey's shocked gaze.
"I was going to tell you, but with all the Todd drama, it just slipped my mind. I know it sounds crazy, but I was scared, Bree. I'm still scared. I'm only nineteen; fuck, I can't even have a legal drink yet. I'm not ready to be a mother, but I don't have a choice. I can't give up on this kid, not when I can remember how my parents gave up on me when I had already been around for a while. I thought about it at first, just for a moment, because I was panicked, but you know me, Bree; I don't like to hurt anybody; I couldn't kill a baby. It's an innocent child; it's not its fault that things got fucked up. Everyone deserves a chance and fuck it Aubrey you have no reason to give it to me. I know I'm a worthless slut but – " she's interrupted abruptly by Aubrey's lips slamming urgently into her own.
"Shut up. Shut. Up. You are not a worthless slut," Aubrey breathes, pulling back after a moment with stern eyes, kissing her all over her face. "This is not your fault. You are a beautiful, sweet, loving young woman who just so happens to be my girlfriend. My girlfriend, who I would never give up on. Stacie Ann Conrad I swear to god if you're going to have to go through all that pregnancy shit then I'm going through it with you. And I'll be here next to you while you figure out whatever you need to do, whether that's adoption or going ahead and raising this baby. If you decide that you can't take care of it well enough, then I'll help you through that, and if you decide to keep it, then I'll be by your side to help you raise this little one, because I love you, and with Todd in jail and being a total asshole to begin with, I figure this kid needs two proper parents." By the conclusion of her little speech, Aubrey's cheeks are flushed, her eyes flashing bright. Stacie's heart leaps.
"You – you're not going to leave?" she whispers, staring back at her girlfriend in elation, not quite able to believe her ears. "You're really not going to leave?" Aubrey's eyes softens. With a quiet exclamation of dissent, she enfolds the younger woman in the arms. Stacie's eyes flutter closed at the feeling of Aubrey's hands stroking soothingly through her hair.
"Of course I'm not going to leave you, silly. I love you. Now, are you ready to tell the others the good news? Because I'm pretty sure that Chloe will have an aneurysm if she doesn't find out what's going on." Stacie lets out a laugh, snuggling deeper into her girlfriend's embrace, but sobers almost immediately, and presses a light kiss to the side of Aubrey's neck.
"I love you, Bree," she murmurs solemnly, reaching up to tangle her fingers into silky blonde hair. She feels rather than sees Aubrey smile against her cheek.
"Oh, sweetheart, I love you too."