A/N: Contrary to popular belief, I am not dead. I have, however, been quite busy and distracted. Combine that with other life stuff going on and writing fic just hasn't been a priority for me of late. I'm slowly chipping away at things, and I hope people enjoy this. I don't know when more of anything can be expected, but don't worry, Zap pesters me nearly everyday to write more. As an aside, I really like the hippo part, you'll know it when you see it.

Zap's Note: Any mistakes I let slip by are because Smeg and I got into one of our many debates. No clue when anything more will come, though progress is being made on something else. Slowly, but enough to make me think we MAY get it out before the end of the year. If we don't end up in a big fight.

Sun, Sadness, and Surprises

The gradual change in the temperature of her feet was what finally drew Beca's attention away from her laptop screen. Looking up the short brunette noticed the immediate culprit as she saw both of her feet resting on the edge of the lounge chair completely exposed to the glaring midday sun. Frowning at how well-lit her otherwise pale feet were for a moment, Beca straightened slightly and reached behind her to lift the sunshade built into the chair until her exposed peripherals were once again immersed in shade.

Smiling at her handiwork, Beca bent back towards her laptop even as she reached out towards the side to grab her drink. When the cup that had until so recently contained a fruity, tropical cocktail was brought to her face, however, the straw produced nothing but watered down alcohol and another frown. Flagging down a waitress, Beca gestured to her cup and once again thanked her assistant for booking her in what she'd thought was an overly excessive hotel. But being able to get a new drink without actually speaking to anyone or have to remove her headphones made it all worth it.

Her head was already bowed down, her full attention back on the program running on her laptop when the waitress came back and discretely left her fruity adult beverage sitting on the small table beside her lounge chair. Beca didn't even notice the return, though a few moments later when she automatically reached out for a drink and found it present, perfectly chilled, and with a sufficient level of alcohol to keep her creative juices flowing she knew it would no doubt appear on her bill. She wasn't too concerned about that, though. Money was thankfully something that Beca would no longer need to really worry about, another of the perks of being a world famous recording artist and producer.

Besides, she also knew that she'd probably be able to bill the entire trip to the label. After all, she had spent nearly every day here working. Well, ok that wasn't entirely true. The first day she'd just been a complete vegetable, her mind totally overloaded from everything that had happened. The second and third days she'd come out of her torpor enough to move down to the pool and the beach, respectively. By the fourth day, however, she realized that she'd never actually taken a vacation in her life and had no fucking clue what to do on one… So she had called Laura on her cell and had them overnight her laptop to her.

She hadn't really cared which one at the time, she had like three laptops she swapped back and forth between, and she was that desperate for something to do it hadn't occurred to her which one Laura would probably send. Seeing the torn, tattered remnants of the Barden Bellas "B" had basically made her first day with the laptop completely useless. She had started drinking at the VIP bar in the hotel and hadn't stopped until they basically carried her up to her room…

That reminded her, she needed to make sure and leave a huuuuuge tip for everyone at the resort. They had definitely gone above and beyond in every aspect of service imaginable since she'd shown up nearly two weeks ago.

Regardless, every day since then she'd worked for at least 12 hours. So she figured that just calling the whole thing a "work trip" was actually fairly accurate. With her thoughts drifting over the last several days Beca flicked out of the program she was using to do some chord blending and glanced over the list of songs she'd saved. Picking one at random that she considered more or less finished she double-clicked it and listened for a couple minutes, her head bobbing along with the beat. To her very great surprise, considering how the trip had started, Beca found that it was quite good. Just as she was switching back to her mixing program, a shadow falling on the ground beside her chair drew her attention as a voice penetrated the noise dampened bubble her headphones had had her surrounded in.

"Whatcha listening to, baby?" The voice asked. Beca turned her head slowly, a frown growing on her face as she noticed a very masculine, bare foot standing at the end of the aforementioned shadow. Her gaze continued upwards more out of reflex than any actual desire to engage the guy standing beside her chair.

"That isn't my name." She said quietly once her eyes fell on the grinning, suntanned face of the guy who'd interrupted her. His grin slipped a fraction, though, at the authority laced into the soft tone. A tone she'd picked up after working in clubs and used very effectively at keeping back idiots who just wanted to score with the DJ.

"Oh, well then, why don't you tell me what it is, so I don't make that mistake again?" The guy asked while his, for lack of a better term, douchebag grin slid back into full effect. Beca couldn't help but grimace at the action. Her gaze turned back towards the laptop on her lap, and as it did she noticed a group of similarly douchy looking guys across the pool from her with several scantily clad girls seemingly hanging on their every word.

"Yeah, no. That's not gonna happen. Run along now." Beca said as she reached up to adjust the headphone cups over her ears before focusing her attention on the track she'd been working on. Figuring the interruption would be over, Beca started looking over her work, the notes playing in her head without her having to even turn the music on yet. Because of that she was able to more or less clearly hear douche-bro's response.

"Aw, come on now, sexy… I've seen you over here the last few days, just begging for some guy to come over and sweep you out into the light and show you a good time. Trust me, baby, I'm the guy for that." The guy said in a slick, oily voice that made Beca's spine crawl. She was sure, too, that as much as this guy was completely creeping her out, that some girls no doubt fell for a variation of just that line. She was content, though, to merely ignore him and hope he'd leave, bobbing her head slightly to the music playing in her head. Until he sat down and put a hand on her knee.

"Get your hand off me." She said, her voice an icy growl that wiped the smarmy look right off his face. It did not, sadly, cause him to move his hand, however. Raising her eyebrow at the offending appendage she looked back up at him and said, "Any time now would be great, bro. I won't tell you again."

"Alright, alright. I don't want no trouble, baby." The guy said, slowly taking his hand off Beca's knee and looking around the pool area at the various hotel staff who had seemed to have sensed something was off and started moving in their direction. With a nervous gulp he tried to put on a bit of his old swagger as he said, "You can come on over, though, whenever you're ready to have a good time. I guarantee that, babe."

"Yeah, that still isn't my name, and I don't think you could even figure out how to show a raver on E a good time, so run along now." Beca said, shooing him away with one last gesture of her hand before turning her attention back to her laptop. This time she actually did fire up the track she'd been working on, listening to it for a minute to get the feel of it back. As she listened she was able to notice the idiot's shadow move away, and after a moment a second shadow appeared from the other side. She looked up to see the manager of the pool bar, the de facto leader of the hotel staff for the pool area, standing over her looking a little worried. They might not know exactly who she is, but when her record label calls up, books the most expensive suite in the hotel and basically says to give this person literally everything they want, the staff tends to get the picture.

"I'm so sorry, miss. Was he bothering you?" The manager asked, seeming as though he was afraid of the answer. Beca, who had paused her music when she noticed the manager's shadow, moved the cups off her ears so as not to be completely rude. A glance across the pool deck showed the idiot who had approached her back with his bros, seemingly being ribbed for failing to pick her up.

"Yes, he was." Beca said rather succinctly. But before the manager could react she held up her hand and shook her head. Rolling her eyes at the situation she then clarified her words and added, "He was bothering me, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Don't worry about it."

"Oh my. Well, we're so sorry miss. If you'd like, I can call down to the concierge desk and arrange a massage or something for you, on the house naturally, and with our apology." The manager said again, looking relieved, but still concerned that she might make a big deal out of it. Beca immediately started shaking her head. She didn't need a massage, especially not here. Hell, a massage was, really, what had driven her here and she didn't want to think about that either.

"No, no. It's ok, really. Don't worry anymore about it, please." Beca said, reassuringly. While her time at Barden may have set people's impression of her as an isolated loner, well, ok she really was, but a few years in the DJ and music business had at least knocked the sharper edges off and made it so that she could pass for an almost real human being when she had to. The manager, after a few more placations, finally moved away and left Beca to her own devices.

Which was how she liked it anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she refocused her attention once more on her laptop… And found that she'd lost whatever inspiration she'd had going from before. Grumbling about it didn't help, and neither did spending another thirty minutes trying to get back into the groove. She'd well and truly lost the rhythm she'd had.

Which was all well and good, cuz the sun had once more started to creep into her bubble of shade and the "party" across the pool from her was getting noisy. Carefully she unhooked her headphones from her laptop and stowed them both into the bag, branded with the logo and name of the hotel, she'd found her in room when she'd arrived and slowly got to her feet. As she did she noticed a few things.

First off, she was fucking sore from sitting in nearly the same spot for the last several hours. Second off she was hot as hell. It had to be at least 85 outside, and Beca hadn't really noticed it when she'd been engrossed in her work. Now that she wasn't, though, she grimaced at the sweaty, sticky feeling she had.

Turning her sunglass-covered head towards the pool she weighed the risks against the rewards of going for a quick dip before heading down to her room. On the plus side was that the water was delightfully cool and refreshing. She knew this from previous trips into said water on other days. The main drawback was that people in the pool tended to try and talk to her while she was in the pool. It was harder to hide behind her music when she didn't have her headphones on.

Thankfully a quick scan of the pool showed very few people in it near where her chair was located. Most everyone else was either relaxing on their chairs, hanging out with the party of douches across the pool from her, or at the swim-up bar trying to drink their way through the hotel's supply of alcohol.

Beca deemed it safe enough to take a quick dip, just enough to cool off, before she headed down. It was a fairly easy matter to undo the light wrap she had donned over her swimsuit and kick off the flip-flops she'd stepped into immediately after standing and realizing that the pool deck was scorching hot. As the wrap hit her chair, Beca's only thought was to get into the pool before people started staring.

While she may have been exceedingly comfortable being the center of attention behind a DJ deck with her mask on, standing on the deck of a hotel pool, even as exclusive a hotel as this one was, in the outfit she'd had to buy when she arrived here on the island was definitely far, far outside her comfort zone. The sunlight kissed over her pale, delicate skin as she hurried towards the edge of the pool, and seemed to highlight and enhance the soft baby blue color of the bikini she was wearing.

Beca, normally not a bikini kind of girl, hadn't been able to find a decent one-piece suit when she'd arrived on Kauai wearing literally just the clothes on her back. Ok, she'd found a couple, but she'd grown up enough from her Barden days to realize that some suits were just ugly. And the few one-piece suits she'd found were just that ugly. So she'd settled on a bikini after a bit of internal deliberation, but one that she'd hoped would cover her as much as could be managed with four triangles of cloth attached by string.

It hadn't even occurred to her until she'd gotten checked into her room and was changing to go down to the pool on her second day on the island that the color of the suit she'd picked very closely resembled another vivid shade of light blue she'd seen far more recently than she'd have expected a few weeks earlier. But by that point in time pure stubbornness prevented her from exchanging it or even getting a second suit option.

A few quick steps, both to hurry herself into the water and because the pool deck was damned hot, allowed Beca to step into the refreshingly cool water and let out a sigh of relief. She'd never been a big swimmer, but slipping into cool water on a hot day was always a joy. Slowly she waded into the shallow water until it was up over her chest and let her eyes close in relief. Her quiet, peaceful moment was disrupted mere seconds later by a splash from nearby that snapped her eyes open.

Apparently some of the party goers had decided to jump into the pool, because drunk people. Letting out another sigh, annoyed this time, Beca dipped down under the water to get her hair wet before standing and moving towards the edge of the pool. As she moved up the steps she was completely oblivious to the looks she got from people, especially guys but a few girls too, as the water sluiced off her body.

Now that she had gotten her dip in, Beca made her way back to her stuff and grabbed one of the towels to dry herself off briefly. She didn't bother drying off completely, that was the point of the wrap, and besides she wanted a shower, but she wanted to be dry enough that she wouldn't drip all the way back to her room. Leaning towards the pool she wrung the water out of her hair and then grabbed her wrap and quickly covered herself up again. Looking around her area she made sure she had everything she'd brought down, though she was sure that the pool attendants would grab anything she missed, and seeing that she hadn't missed anything, she stepped into her flip flops and headed towards the bar to sign her tab.

After leaving a generous tip, she smiled at the bartender in thanks and nodded at the waitress who had brought her drinks to her and then made her way towards the elevator to go down to her room. Thankfully the suite she was in was near the top of the tower she was staying in and thus the pool, another perk of the job, so the trip was fast. Getting out on her floor, Beca quickly let herself into her room and let out a sigh of relief.

Even after nearly two weeks in the resort Beca still felt a surge of relief when she was able to get into her room and away from the, if truth be told, very courteous staff who had obviously noticed her desire to be by herself whenever possible. Still, being around people generally irritated her, and after the encounter with the douche-bro up at the pool, Beca was in need of some private time. And a shower.

And maybe some extra private time…

Shaking her head, the brunette rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and moved to set her bag onto the bed. Grabbing her phone from inside it she thought about the fact that today had been the first time she'd seen that idiot and his friends up at the pool. A frown came over her face as she realized that that most likely meant he'd just checked in, and would likely be at the resort for about a week, if not longer. She didn't really want to leave, but if she had to keep running into that guy again, well…

Thumbing her phone on, she glanced at a couple of emails as she walked into the bathroom. She made note of a couple she needed to respond to before stripping off her damp wrap and bikini and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Shivering a bit in the AC of the suite, she stepped into the large glass enclosed shower and hit the button to turn the water on. Closing her eyes she smiled as the spray hit her from multiple directions at once, already set to just the right temperature and stored in the little computer doodad hooked up to the shower. She'd have to see about having something like it installed in her shower back in LA, because it was awesome.

Before she could really start to enjoy the water, or even the shower, she heard her phone ringing and groaned. She knew that Laura, her assistant and the only person allowed to call her while she was taking her me time, wouldn't be calling unless it was something really important. Grumbling slightly under her breath she turned the shower off and stepped out, pausing only long enough to dry her hands on a nearby towel before grabbing her phone.

Only to end up frowning at the number, which was most definitely NOT Laura's, though it was an LA area code, she knew that much. Slightly hesitantly she thumbed the accept icon and asked, "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Beca Mitchell?" A male voice asked over the phone. He didn't sound like a creepy stalker, but then again Beca didn't really know what they sounded like. His voice sounded slightly older, and a bit distinguished, with a ring of authority to it as though this person was used to people answering questions when he asked them.

"Uhhh… Maybe, who are you?" Beca shot back quickly, her instinctive defenses jumping up and making her tone maybe a little sharper than it normally would have been. She could tell that she'd caught the man off guard as he paused for a second. She didn't relent, though, and simply waited patiently through the silence in order to figure out who'd gotten the number for her personal cell. A number that only about four people had.

"Well, if this is Ms. Mitchell, which I suspect, I need you to confirm that for me. I'm Dr. Edwards at Cedars Sinai Medical Center, and you're listed as an Emergency Contact for your friend, Stacie Conrad. She's been in a car accident."

Chloe was crying again.

Aubrey hated it when Chloe was crying. It was, quite possibly, the literal worst thing that the blond could even contemplate.

Sighing, she took her keys out of the door to their apartment and silently slid them into her purse. She wasn't sure exactly where in the apartment the redhead was, but based on the sounds she heard, the terrible, awful, miserable, wretched, despondent sounds she guessed that Chloe was still in the same spot she'd left her this morning when the blond had left for work. In other words, lying in bed, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by pillows.

What made it even worse was that Aubrey felt at least a small bit of responsibility for the redhead having been shut away nearly constantly for the last week. She had been the one to press Stacie when she noticed the brunette being evasive. Of course, she'd tried to do it in private in the kitchen. But Chloe had picked the wrong time to come in for more wine…

Thankfully she could assuage her guilt with the fact that if there was anyone who deserved the blame, really, it was that despicable midget and her deplorable habit of running away from anything that, well, anything really.

That first day, nearly two weeks earlier, when Chloe had thought she was going to be fired, and Stacie was preparing to kick Beca's ass if the hobbit had been responsible hadn't been too bad. Stacie reported, about half an hour after going on radio silence because the Oompa Loompa had arrived, that brunch was over. She'd said that Beca had had to go back to work, but that they could meet up for dinner that night to discuss the details of the conversation. She finished it off saying that while it didn't go well, it hadn't gone terribly either.

Ha! Maybe even a double "Ha!"

But they didn't learn the truth until later. Stacie had managed to play it cool for basically the rest of the week. It helped her that they didn't really talk about Beca much in general, so she didn't have to avoid the topic that often. It wasn't until Chloe was at work on Friday that it began to unravel.

The redhead saw that on the schedule that Beca had cancelled what, with a little snooping into past schedules from Chloe, was normally a very regular appointment. Looking forward she saw that Beca had cancelled not just for that day, but for the next few as well. It, obviously, raised a red flag.

So she asked Stacie about it the following night when all three of them had gotten together for their usual weekly meal. Stacie tried to deflect, but Chloe and Aubrey were paying more attention this time. Eventually under an onslaught of questions from the two of them, the truth came out. The meeting had gone quite terribly, actually. So terribly that Beca had apparently fled the continent. That was when Chloe had become the quivering ball of sadness that was currently crying for the umpteenth time in her bedroom right now.

Aubrey had tried cheering her up, using all the usual methods. Trashy tv, singing some of the old classics, flowers, chocolate, wine, insulting Beca for being a coward and unworthy of Chloe's heartache… Nothing really helped. Oddly enough, the last one seemed to be detrimental. So despite it making Aubrey feel better to berate the girl, she'd held off on more of that.

Bree knew that it wasn't entirely fair, too. Beca was a known flight risk, but the blond had hoped that the girl had grown a little bit since their last face to face. She still felt pretty awful about the whole ordeal, but it was getting more and more difficult to remember that, in all actuality, she was the bad guy in their story.

Taking a deep breath she glanced at her watch and noted that Stacie would probably be over in about forty-five minutes for dinner. Walking across the room she hung her purse on one of the hooks that she'd insisted they hang specifically for this purpose and moved back towards the sounds of sadness emanating from her roommate and best friend.

Tapping softly on Chloe's door she heard the sniffling quiet down a touch and hoped that that meant that Chloe might be fit for company. Hearing a muffled response which she assumed to be Chloe telling her to come in, Aubrey opened the door enough to stick her head. She spotted the redhead about where she'd expected her, sitting in bed and surrounded by blankets. Smiling gently at the tearful face she said quietly, "Hey sweetie. I just thought I'd remind you that Stace is coming over in a little bit for dinner…"

"Oh… Is it that late? I, uh… Yeah, I'll, um, take a shower I guess…"Chloe said after a minute when Aubrey's words sunk in. She didn't move, however, and just looked around her room looking slightly confused. Aubrey kept the smile on her face as she entered the room and walked over towards Chloe's vanity and grabbed her towel, what she'd known the redhead was looking for. Chloe smiled up at her thankfully and untangled herself from the blankets. When she was standing Aubrey pulled her in for a hug.

"Maybe Stacie heard from the Hobbit today. It's been almost two weeks, she must have … I mean, we can ask Stace when she gets her." Aubrey said, though she wasn't hopeful. She knew that if the brunette had heard from the wayward DJ she'd have let them know about it ASAP. Still, it gave Chloe a hopeful look, and that was what the blond had been going for. She held the hug for a minute, before letting her go and shoving her playfully towards the door. Physical contact was always one of the things that usually cheered Chloe up and they both knew it. As Chloe made her way towards the bathroom the blond added playfully, "And a shower is a great idea. You know how much Stacie loves my cooking and it would be a shame the wonderful meal was ruined by Pig Pen showing up…"

"I am not Pig Pen! I'm Snoopy, cute and adorable!" Chloe said, turning to glare at Aubrey from the bathroom door. But her heart obviously wasn't in it as the fierce look faded before the redhead had even turned to go inside. Aubrey sighed turning towards the living room, her worried mind thinking about Chloe's favorite meal and if they had all the ingredients she needed.

Thankfully she'd stocked up on all the necessary ingredients a few days earlier after her talk with the redhead about how this was really Beca's problem, and how annoyingly stubborn the girl could be didn't go as planned. It had cheered Aubrey up as pointing out how Beca was wrong and she was right usually did, her remorse over the events of Semi-Finals four years earlier didn't erase the fact that Aubrey liked to compete, and more importantly she liked to win. So getting a little victory over the absent brunette had cheered her up.

Of course, she hadn't really had a chance to get into stride with her ranting, or to her mind, well-reasoned arguments, before Chloe had gotten upset and stomped off. But Aubrey had been on the debate team enough to know how to argue both sides of a topic, so even without Chloe there she'd still managed to basically have the conversation. Still, it had prompted her to make an unscheduled trip to the store in case she needed a backup plan, which, as it turns out, she did.

Shaking her head again she started prepping everything, and by the time Chloe emerged from her room after the shower things were starting to come together. One look at the redhead, though, showed that while the shower may have cleaned the exterior, it had only been surface deep. Chloe had found a pair of old Barden University sweatpants and a baggy, long-sleeved shirt that was about as unflattering a piece of clothing as she'd seen Chloe wear ever. Her messy pile of red hair was haphazardly arranged in a messy bun on top of her head and held in place by a pair of chopsticks. But at least she was out of her room and prepared to pretend to behave like a functioning adult.

Granted it was only for herself and Stacie, but Aubrey was happy with baby steps. When the redhead sidled into one of the stools at the island, the blond slid a few of the sliced veggies she'd been working on a few minutes earlier towards her. And while she may not have enthusiastically jumped on them like she normally would have, she at least started nibbling on them. Snagging one for herself, she used the act of munching on it to cover the small smile. Baby steps indeed.

Chloe's gaze ran over the various things that Aubrey already had made up and a smile grew on her face, a small one, but it stayed there and that made the blond's return smile brighter than it normally might have been as Chloe asked, "You're making the 'Chloe Special', aren't you?"

"Well, it felt appropriate…" Aubrey answered noncommittally. The blond knew that there was no sense in denying it, but she was curious to see if Chloe would take the bait and tease her back a little. She was hoping that the prospect of company, especially if Stacie had news, would help shake things up.

"I'm glad you're finally recognizing just how–"Chloe started to say, her eyes alight for the first time that Aubrey could remember in days. Whatever she was planning on saying cut off abruptly, however, when Aubrey's phone rang suddenly, vibrating noisily against the surface of the island. Expecting to see Stacie's face and number pop up, Aubrey frowned at the unknown number with an LA area code.

"Hello, Aubrey Posen speaking." She said in her usual clipped tone after a moment's pause prior to hitting accept.

"Hello Ms. Posen, I'm Dr. Edwards from Cedars Sinai Medical Center. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I have you listed as an emergency contact for one Stacie Conrad. I'm afraid to say that she was in a car accident earlier this evening." Aubrey felt her stomach drop as a chill of horror descended on her suddenly. Her reaction was no doubt obvious to anyone watching, which included her sharp-eyed, redheaded companion.

"Who is it? What's wrong, Bree?!" Chloe mouthed, panic coming onto her face at the look that was no doubt on Bree's. The blond shook her head, not really wanting to explain until she had all the facts. Turning her back to Chloe, she started to speak, but found that her voice had somehow failed her. Clearing her throat she took a deep breath before trying again.

"I… That's… Holy crap. What happened? Is she ok? What can you tell me?" The blond finally asked after a moment of panic. Aubrey found that somehow her brain, which was currently gibbering in panic, had apparently disconnected from her mouth after a moment of floundering and, as expected, got to the crux of the matter.

"I'm sorry, but I can't discuss patient details over the phone. This call is more curtesy and to inform you that she's currently in the ICU at Cedars Sinai if you want to come check on her yourself." The doctor said, and Aubrey was a little surprised to hear sincere sympathy in his voice, as though he did regret not being able to divulge details. The blond, however, knew that there was some pretty strict laws in place against that and wasn't surprised that he was being close-mouthed with details.

"ICU, so that means that she isn't… We'll be there as soon as we can." Aubrey said, digging what little info she could out of the man's statement, and shutting her own worst fears down before they could get on a roll. The doctor made a noise of agreement, but Aubrey was already hanging up and turning back to see Chloe in full on panic mode. She was standing now, gripping the counter so tightly that her knuckles were white. Pure terror was etched into every line of her face. She opened her mouth, to scream, cry, or demand answers Aubrey didn't know, but the blond spoke quickly to interrupt her and defuse things before they got out of hand, "It's ok, sort of. Stacie was in a car accident, apparently. She's at Cedars Sinai in the ICU. They wouldn't tell me any more than that over the phone. Go, get dressed, we'll head down there now."

"Cedars… That's… That's the trauma center, Bree. Why would they take her there if she was 'alright'?" Chloe asked, a little terror easing from her visage, but still not convinced that everything was ok. Aubrey couldn't blame her, and she'd been hoping that the redhead wouldn't have caught onto the name of the local trauma center. Well, that cat was out of the bag…

"I don't know, tons of reasons. None of which will we find out if you don't move your ass, Red." Aubrey snapped, feeling immediately remorseful for her tone, but the sharp whip crack of her command voice from when she'd lead the Bellas sure got Chloe moving. The redhead jumped at first and seemed to move almost instinctively towards the door before she paused as though thinking to argue. Aubrey just clapped her hands once, though, and that finally did it, with Chloe just swallowing her protests and dashing towards her bedroom.

After Chloe was gone, Aubrey felt herself sag against the counter as her own rigid control waned for a moment. The doctor's tone hadn't sounded as though their presence was direly needed, but even the thought of Stacie in the hospital had weakened her knees. Taking a deep breath to regain control of herself, Aubrey methodically went about reversing the progress she'd made towards making their meal. Thankfully there wasn't much to do, mostly just turning a few things off and then packing the food away into the fridge.

After that was taken care of, she stepped into the living room to wait for Chloe. A quick glance in the mirror near the door, specifically placed there for last minute appearance checks before one of them left the house, showed her that the clothes she'd worn while at work today would, in a pinch, suffice. Khaki shorts and a polo shirt wasn't really her normal go to outfit choice, but she didn't feel like taking the time to change. Instead she put back on the shoes she'd worn and was just getting ready to holler at Chloe when the redhead emerged looking far more put together than Aubrey had seen since the last time her roommate had gone to work.

The drive to the hospital was made in relative silence, only the car's radio to keep them company. For all her insistence on "traditional Bellas music" while she'd lead the group, her personal listening taste was a bit more modern which made it easier to find a station that they both could agree on. Traffic was, as expected, bad, but the trip seemed to both fly by and drag on, but within an hour Aubrey was striding up to the information desk at the ER. The nurse there looked up at them as they approached and Aubrey saw her quickly assess that neither of them were bleeding or otherwise in need of immediate medical attention.

"Evening, welcome to Cedars Sinai ER. How can I help you?" The middle-aged woman, Stephanie if her name tag was an indicator, asked sounding a little bored. Aubrey noticed that, even though she was looking up and talking to them, the woman's gaze occasionally dipped back to one of the monitor's in front of her and she never really stopped typing. The blond couldn't help but begrudge Stephanie a bit of respect for her multitasking, but it was really an unconscious thing as her main focus was elsewhere.

"Yes, hello. Our friend, our sister, was in an accident earlier and was brought here. A Dr. Edwards contacted us as we're her emergency contacts." Aubrey said, her voice steady as she implied a greater connection with Stacie than perhaps strictly existed. Then again, they were all Bellas sisters, and that bond lasted for life, but the nurse didn't need to know the details.

"I see. What's the patient's name?" The nurse asked, her steady typing pausing as she, if Aubrey had to guess, switched programs and waited.

"Stacie Conrad." Aubrey replied quickly, and watched as the nurse typed it in. As she typed and then looked over whatever information came up she tried to gauge the nurse's reactions. The blond was having a hard time concentrating, however, as Chloe was standing right beside her with a death grip on her arm. The redhead was also almost vibrating with nerves and it took a lot of focus for Aubrey to not snap at her.

"Ah, yes. She's here…" The nurse said, her eyes flicking over the information to pick out the salient details. Aubrey watched, but couldn't really tell what she thought of whatever the screen was telling her. At the least, Aubrey hoped, the news wouldn't be her worst fear. After a few seconds reviewing the information, the nurse gestured out of the ER's interior entrance towards the main areas of the hospital and said, "She was transferred out of the ICU about 30 minutes ago. She's up in room 1206 and is ok to receive, uh, family and visitors. Check in at the information desk down that hall and around to the right, then it's just up the elevators. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that's everything, thank you." Aubrey said and was sure that the lady could hear the note of relief in her voice at hearing that Stacie was at least out of the ICU. Hopefully that would be a good sign. Walking quickly beside Chloe, the two followed the instructions and found the check-in desk and got visitor badges to stick onto their shirts and then went up the elevator.

Upstairs was fairly quiet, which was another good sign as far as the blond was concerned. It didn't take long before they were able to find room 1206. The blinds were pulled and the door was closed, but Aubrey stepped forward and knocked softly and was immensely relieved to hear a muffled, "Come in."

Stepping into the room Aubrey stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she cleared the curtain. She felt Chloe step into her back, obviously the redhead hadn't expected the sudden stop, but Bree couldn't help it. Taking in the sight of Stacie on the bed, hooked up to beeping machines and looking like she'd, well, like she'd just survived a car accident had locked her brain up.

Looking frail and beaten, Stacie's face was a mess of bruises on her left side, what little of it wasn't covered in bandages. An IV was threaded into her left arm, and while that arm looked better than what Aubrey could see of Stacie's right, it was her right leg that drew immediate attention. From nearly her hip down to her ankle was a fresh, white cast clearly visible as her leg was held above the blanket in a sling.

The slightly choked off sob that Aubrey let out involuntarily was the only sound in the room to be heard aside from the beeping of machines. It also drew the attention of the girl laying in the bed. Stacie's eyes opened and she turned her head towards the noise, her eyes immediately connecting with Aubrey's and the blond woman felt a rush of relief that the brunette was at least awake and responsive.

"Oh my god, Stacie… What did you do to yourself?" Chloe asked, having edged around Aubrey to where she could finally take in the sight of the brunette on the bed. Aubrey did catch the sidelong glance that her involuntary noise had drawn, but it was secondary in her mind at the moment as she hurried over to Stacie's bedside. Chloe mirrored her actions, taking the other side of the bed even though there was some equipment in the way.

"You think I look bad, you should see my car…" The brunette said, her voice weak and shaky. She even tried to laugh, typical fucking Stacie, but it ended quickly as she groaned in pain and winced. Her right arm moved to cover her ribs on her right side and Aubrey thought it odd to use that arm until she realize that she had taken hold of the brunette's left arm as soon as she'd gotten close to the bed.

"You're in pain." Aubrey said, torn between wanting to run out into the hall and demand a doctor come in and help ease her pain and wanting to stay right by Stacie's side. Her indecision must have been plain for both girls to see, especially Stacie whose gaze had only flickered briefly to Chloe before returning to Aubrey's concerned eyes. Seeing pain flicker through her friend's green eyes again made up her mind for her and Aubrey was already letting go of Stacie's hand and moving as she said, "I'll go get a nurse or doctor or something. We'll get you something…"

"Bree, it's ok. Bree. Aubrey Marie Posen!" Stacie said, finally raising her voice to a weak shout to get the blond's attention just before she opened the door to the hall. Of course, it was actually more likely that the use of the blond's full name was the cause, because Stacie's shout was about as loud as Lily's freshman audition for the Bellas. Well, maybe a touch louder, but not much.

"I… I just… I was gonna…" Aubrey said, turning to face the other two girls in the room. Stacie was looking annoyed, and perhaps a little in pain. Chloe on the other hand was looking confused, her gaze drifting between the brunette on the bed and the blond by the door with a curious expression on her face.

"It's ok, Bree. I'm not in that much pain, it's just that laughing hurts, and it was the first time I'd done it since I woke up so I wasn't expecting it." Stacie said, a sympathetic smile for her friends. Aubrey smiled back and walked back over to the brunette's bedside, this time carefully avoiding taking Stacie's hand. Chloe, never one to be silent for long, decided that that was a good opening to ask about what happened.

"So, uh, what happened, Stace? I mean, you look, well…" The redhead said, her voice trailing off as she gestured to the mangled state that Stacie was in. Aubrey nodded her agreement and they pulled up chairs to the brunette's bedside as she told them what had happened. How she'd just left the hospital, was in fact on a couple blocks away, when a drunk in a lifted pickup truck blew threw a red light and plowed into her car. The EMTs, once they'd arrived, took one look at the scene and her injuries and immediately routed her here, the closest trauma center.

"Well, I'm not gonna lie, I freaked out a little bit when I first got the call. Especially because they wouldn't tell me anything over the phone." Aubrey said, patting Stacie's hand as she leaned against the bed. The brunette had given a quick account of her injuries that was mostly medical jargon, but Aubrey caught enough to realize that she was probably going to be fine. A few days in the hospital, maybe a week max, and she'd be out. A thought suddenly occurred to the blond which caused her to sit up and squint at Stacie, "Also, how do you know my middle name?"

"Uhhh. You kind of told me…" Stacie said a bit sheepishly. Aubrey felt her eyes squint more as she racked her brain to remember telling Stacie her middle name. She'd only been their coach for the one year, though she'd kept in contact with them after she'd left Barden and helped as much as she could with coaching from afar.

"I did? When? Cuz I don't remember…" The blond couldn't come up with the memory, and her words just made Stacie blush. Which in and of itself was a fairly rare site. The brunette usually had no shame. Of course, that immediately got both Bree and Chloe's attention.

"Well, yeah, you wouldn't… You remember during my freshmen year? The one party that we all went to over at Sigma Beta Theta? Then afterwards, after you saw some of the Trebles hitting on me, you dragged us all back to your guys' apartment?" Stacie asked, looking at Aubrey from under her lashes. The blond nodded and Chloe chuckled at the memory. It had been quite the evening and some people had obviously had more fun than others, if the amount of empty cups they'd found the following morning had been any indication. Stacie smiled and continued, "Yeah, well, you were pretty wasted and, well, it just came up. I told you mine too."

"I know yours, Stacie Eleanor Conrad. It was on your application to join the Bellas." Aubrey said, but she said it with a smile. It touched her that Stacie had remembered her middle name, told during a night of heavy drinking, all those years ago.

"Oh, speaking of epic nights of drinking…" Chloe started up, leaning back in her chair as she got ready to ride out the remaining visiting hours. Aubrey, taking one look at the two girls around her, realized that while there might be other places she'd rather be, there wasn't anyone else she'd rather be with than these two. Laughing at the remembered antics, and some she'd only heard about after the fact, the blond didn't realize that she'd taken Stacie's hand in her own again.

Nor did she notice that Stacie's thumb was tracing small circles on the back of said hand.

Beca yawned and let her head fall back against the headrest of the backseat. Her eyes closed of their own accord, but the brunette didn't need to be able to see to tell that they were still in morning traffic leaving LAX. Like, really early morning traffic. It was one of the things she hated about the city. It seemed like no matter what time she went out there was going to be traffic.

Well, at least she didn't have to drive herself. Which was probably for everyone's benefit because she hadn't been able to sleep a wink on the flight over. People always said, "Take the red-eye, you can just sleep on the plan…"

Bullshit. Even with her ear-covering, sound-dampening, music producing headphones clamped tightly over her ears and the oh so comfortable first class seat providing her ample room to curl up like a cat, sleep had evaded her. Then again, all the comforts of the seat and the plane and neighbor noise canceling effects of her headphones couldn't stop her from worrying about her best friend.

She'd tried everything she could to get some info out of the dumb doctor that had called, but he had been tight-lipped. Talking about some hippo or something, and how it prevented him from telling any sensitive information to anyone but a very select list of people. Well, fuck that hippo, Beca had told him. That's what they make really big guns for, right?

Wait, you probably aren't supposed to shoot hippos. They're, like, endangered or something probably, yeah? Well, fuck that hippo anyway. And what the hell was it doing in the hospital. Bloody unsafe if you asked her. Which no one had.

The ride to the hospital was fairly quiet, which helped Beca doze and was much appreciated. Worries about hippos aside, the brunette had been greatly concerned about Stacie. The lack of solid information hadn't helped. She'd even had Laura try to go to the hospital last night for information, but all her assistant had been able to find out was that Stacie was in the ICU, which didn't do Beca's nerves any good.

Naturally she'd booked the first flight back, and probably paid through the nose for it, but she didn't care. Money was one thing she probably never needed to worry about again, and as Forest Gump had said, "Well that's one less thing."

Yeah, she'd seen the stupid movie. Stacie had made her after the busty brunette had said, "Run Forest, run" to Beca a while back and the shorter girl had just stared at her blankly. It took a few weeks, and some alcohol, but Stacie had eventually gotten Beca to watch the movie and it had been kind of cute. Well, it had had its moments. That Jenny was kind of a slut, that's for sure.

Regardless, Beca had snorted out a laugh at the comment about the money and Stacie had eyed her quizzically. Later, after Stacie learned the truth about what Beca had been doing in LA since she'd left Barden, well it became obvious why Beca had reacted the way she had to that line. It had actually been the revelation that Beca's success in the music industry hadn't really altered the way Stacie interacted with her that had helped Beca to separate her growing friendship with Stacie compared to how she felt regarding the rest of the Bellas.

She didn't care that Beca was basically loaded now. She never took advantage of it or asked her for money. She did try to get Beca to go out shopping, but that was mainly because she heartily disapproved of the look that Beca cultivated. In fact, on several occasions Stacie could be heard repeating, "Unless you're living in Seattle, Beca, grunge died a long time ago. Let those clothes have a proper funeral, please!"

The bump of the car going into the parking lot jostled Beca from her eyes closed musing on her friend and caused her to open her eyes and look around. Sure enough, the gleaming glass walls of the hospital were rising above her and Beca glanced down at her phone to check the time. LAX wasn't too far from Cedars-Sinai, but with traffic the way it usually was the driver had made good time to the Beverly Hills hospital. Thanking him for the lift, even though it was technically his job, Beca tapped a few times on her phone to add in a nice tip for the driver. There was a way that she managed to keep up her 5-star Uber rating, and big tips helped a lot.

After that was finished Beca turned towards the entrance of the hospital and had to pause to take a few deep breaths. She hated hospitals. Hated being in them, hated having to go to them. It wasn't like anyone close to her had died, or anything, just the sterile rigidness of hospitals and the knowledge that somewhere inside someone could be dying really freaked her out. Still, she was here for a reason, so no time like the present to get about it.

It took her another five minutes or so before she managed to actually get inside. As she made her way to the check-in desk she kept an eye out for these notorious hippos but didn't see any. Maybe they were on the upper floors. That'd just be mean, though, making hippos go up all those stairs. Maybe they had special rooms in the basement. Yeah, that made more sense.

"Hi, visiting?" The bored looking security guard at the desk asked her as she stepped up. Even from her albeit short vantage point she could see that most of his attention was on the bank of security monitors and not really on her. Then again, he probably saw a hundred people a day checking in like this, so it was all routine for him.

"Uh, yeah. Ummm, Stacie Conrad." She said, slightly nervously. For all Beca knew Stacie was still in the ICU, though unless she was in serious danger they'd hopefully still let her have visitors. She watched as the guard took his attention from the monitors and turned to his computer. He typed for a second and then read something from his screen before hitting another key. Beca waited on eggshells.

"Here's your visitor's badge, she's in room 1206. Enjoy your stay." The guard said robotically as though he had a hundred times already today and probably would a hundred more. Beca let out her breath in a single, long sigh. She wasn't sure where room "1206" was exactly, but the routineness of it all made her think that things weren't as bad as her worst fears kept telling her.

Slapping the badge on her shirt, she hefted her laptop case onto her shoulder and grabbed the small rolling luggage she'd bought on the Islands to take home the few pieces of clothing and personal items she'd gathered up while on her vacation. She felt a little awkward strolling through the hospital with them, but she hadn't wanted to take the time to head home and drop them off before coming to see her friend.

The elevators were easy to find and the ride up was smooth, but Beca found her foot tapping impatiently at the floor of the elevator the entire ride. The one other person in the car with her glanced curiously at her, but Beca had had years of practice ignoring the looks of others and staying in her own world.

Stepping off at the twelfth floor she saw directions on the wall that soon had her standing in front of an open door through which she could hear some silly morning show playing on the tv. Her trip through the floor had felt like a balm as it was immediately apparent that whatever this floor was, it was not an intensive care unit. That reassured Beca that her friend's condition was, if not good, then at least not bad.

"You know, if you really wanted me to come visit you, you could have just– Jesus!" Beca, who had started joking with the brunette as she walked into the room, stopped abruptly as she got a good look at the mass of black and purple swelling, the leg in full cast, and the bandages covering Stacie's normally angelic visage.

"I mean, you could just call be Stacie, but I guess Jesus works too, Bec." Stacie said, having turned towards the noise as Beca spoke while entering. Beca's eyes, after having taken in the mangled state of Stacie's appearance, found the brunette's green-eyed gaze looking directly at her. Beca swallowed, partly in relief that her friend seemed to be well enough to joke around, but also because that gaze told her that Stacie might very well be pissed at her for up and leaving two weeks earlier.

"Well, I'm sure I'm not the first one to call out that name with you…" Beca said, trying to keep the joking tone up as she left her rolling luggage just inside the room. The privacy curtain was mostly closed, but Beca figured she'd be able to keep an eye on it from Stacie's bedside. And if she couldn't, well, it was just some random clothes and things that she'd bought because she'd impulsively left for Hawai'i without packing. Walking to the nearside of Stacie's bed, Beca noticed that while the bit of humor may have added a slight twitch of a smile, the brunette still didn't seem happy. Putting on a concerned look, Beca said, "You do look like you went through hell, though. What the fuck happened?"

"Some drunk idiot." Stacie replied, slightly coldly. Not icy, which was a good sign as far as Beca was concerned. Stacie gave a cursory account of the accident, with Beca making the appropriate noises at the appropriate moments. After the injured brunette finished her tale, though, an uncomfortable pause fell over the pair of them that had Beca shifting where she stood until she finally had to break the silence.

"Well, that sucks. I, um, I know that you loved that car…" Beca said, rather lamely. She knew that all the sympathy in the world wasn't going to get her off the hook, though. Realizing that, despite her earlier comment and asking after the accident, Beca hadn't checked on her friend. Since she was desperate for any form of conversation, she asked, "Ummm, how, uh, how are you?"

"Hurt, Beca. Really hurt." Stacie said quietly. Beca was moving immediately, heading toward the door. She missed the rolling of Stacie's eyes, though, as her brain hadn't fully engaged. She was already starting to tell Stacie that she'd get a doctor for more pain meds when the brunette in the bed called her name, "Beca! Jesus, what is it with … Nevermind. I'm not… They don't have medications for what hurt me. Unless they can perform a Beca-ectomy."

"Oh, uh… A what?" Beca had gotten as far as the privacy curtain before Stacie called her back. She knew that her face looked puzzled because the word sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. Slowly she started to walk back to the bed as Stacie rolled her eyes.

"Jesus, Bec, you really don't pay attention to me when I talk about my studies, do you?" Stacie asked with a sigh. She wasn't really that upset about it, Beca heard the friendly, teasing tone in her voice, but she just shrugged sheepishly anyway. Shaking her head, Stacie said, "A Beca-ectomy. As in the surgical excision of a Beca… You hurt me, Beca. You just… You left, and you didn't call or text or anything. That isn't… That isn't what friends do."

"Oh… I… Ummm, sorry?" Beca said, now fully aware that her friend wasn't pissed, but was actually saddened, felt her usual awkwardness in dealing with social situations. She may have gotten better at dealing with people, an occupational hazard as far as she was concerned, but she was still Beca Mitchell. Stacie just sighed again and Beca opened her mouth to try again. Words failed to come out, so she shut it again and gathered her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she tried again, "I… Stacie. I'm sorry. Really I am. I just… You know that's my signature move when shit gets real. I run."

"I know, Bec. I really do. I just… I thought we had gotten past that." Stacie said, and the emphasis just drove another barb in and twisted it. Beca had thought they were too. Stacie was her friend, her best friend in LA. Her only friend, really. And she had just done a runner. It was worse that it hadn't even occurred to her until now, either. It seemed, though, that Stacie wasn't finished twisting the barb as she went on, "Seriously, Beca. I thought we'd moved past that. But no, the first sign of … trouble, and you left. Abandoned me without a word. Again."

"Hey! I didn't…" Beca said, her voice almost a shout at the injustice of the accusation. Of course, the idea of yelling at your best friend while she sat in a hospital bed even made Beca's social compass shudder. Catching herself she took a ragged breath before continuing in a calmer, but still fierce tone, "I didn't leave before, not first. You guys left me! You abandoned me after that performance!"

"Beca… We never abandoned you. We just… forgot our way for a time." The soft answering voice came not from the girl in front of her, but from behind. And it was a voice that Beca knew all too well, one that echoed in her dreams and haunted her nightmares. Turning slowly as panic rose inside her, Beca saw incontrovertible proof that her memory of that voice hadn't changed in six years.

Her answer, when it came, was a quiet, choked croak of a whisper, "Chloe…"