The conclusion. Don't hate me. It'll be okay.

Beca's funeral is closed-casket, of course. It has to be.

The flowers are nice, Chloe thinks. BFD had donated black roses, which Beca would have claimed to hate but would have secretly loved. Beca's father had sent a simple bouquet of lilies but hadn't bothered to show up at his only child's funeral; he'd never quite forgiven her for marrying another woman. It makes Chloe's blood boil, but she imagines Beca's hand smoothing between her shoulders and she's able to remain calm. Jesse and his wife, flown in from LA, also brought flowers, a stunning arrangement of blue orchids. And, of course, each of the Bellas had contributed various plants, and, in Lilly's case, a nice windchime.

The turnout (despite the absence of Beca's father) is good, though Chloe knows Beca would have been uncomfortable. She never did like being the center of attention. Chloe has met pretty much everyone Beca has ever worked with, including some pretty high-profile music artists, though she can't bring herself to be excited about meeting the celebrities. Not under these circumstances. She's also met Beca's favorite high school teacher, Mr. Winchester, and Beca's best friend from grade school, Rachel. She was surprised to see Kimmy Jin, Beca's freshman year roommate, but she appreciates it nonetheless.

All the Bellas are in attendance; they've been staying with Chloe the last few days. Aubrey had pulled Chloe into a hug the instant she'd arrived at the house the night of the accident, Stacie and Flo not far behind. Amy had arrived the next morning, more somber than Chloe had ever seen her, along with Lilly and Cynthia Rose. Jessica and Ashley had come that afternoon, as had a stunned-looking Emily. Normally, Chloe would have been overjoyed at the reunion. Beca certainly would have been. As it is, she can barely bring herself to look at them. They only remind her of what she's lost.

Chloe would give anything to forget what Beca had looked like the last time she'd seen her. She desperately wishes her final memory of Beca had been how she'd looked before work on the morning of the accident; a little tired, but smiling, happy, and alive. But no. That would be too easy. Instead, her last impression of her wife's appearance is Beca's body lying on a hospital bed, her entirely covered in gruesome burns from the explosion. It's seared into her mind forever. At first, Chloe hadn't even recognized the face of the person she loved most in the world. She'd briefly wondered if the hospital had somehow made an awful mistake. But then she'd caught sight of Beca's titanium wedding band on the stranger's ruined hand, and she'd known.

She'd known when it had happened, actually, the instant that Beca had been torn away from her forever. She'd felt it, as though someone had ripped open her chest and extracted her heart. It had come from nowhere as she'd been prepping their dinner. She'd thought she was having a heart attack, sure she was about to die, until the agony had eased to a sick ache. That's when she'd seen the news coverage of the accident, first on her phone, then on the TV. She'd known then. She hadn't needed the call that had come half an hour later, the one that dropped her to her knees and wrenched a scream from her throat.

She can't stop glancing at the casket. Beca would have been furious at the small size of it. A part of Chloe waits for Beca to push open the lid with a muffled curse and sit up to stare at her audience in confusion. She supposes that would scare people, but she wouldn't mind at all. She'd have Beca back.

Eyewitnesses to the accident had told the police (who had then told her) that Beca had been trying to pass the gas hauler when it'd tipped. She'd been stuck behind a slower-moving car, though, unable to finish passing when the wind caught the hauler. It had careened sideways into her, wobbling and jerking around until it eventually tipped to fall directly on her car. The witnesses swore that there was nothing Beca could have done. It had all happened so fast. At least Chloe can take some comfort in that Beca didn't suffer.

Chloe wants to be anywhere else in the world. She wants to run from the funeral home and never look back. She wants to put as much space between herself and the shell that is left of Beca in that box. She wants to hide from the blur of faces around her, including those of the Bellas. When she looks at them, all she sees is the one that's missing.

Well, no, Chloe doesn't want to be anywhere else; she wants to be one place specifically. Chloe wants to be at their (her) home, in their (her) bed with Beca curled up in her arms. And that's the one thing she can't have.

Instead, she stands right next to the too-small box containing the love of her life and individually greets everyone waiting in the long line to talk to her. Aubrey stands at her shoulder, waiting to catch her if she collapses – again. She talks to so many different people, all having some different connection to Beca's life. And yet, they all say variations of the same thing. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Beca would have scoffed at them. Isn't there something more original they could come up with? she would have muttered to Chloe. And, normally, Chloe would have scolded Beca gently, reminding her that no one really knows what else to say. But for once, Chloe is inclined to agree with her grumpy wife; "sorry" doesn't really help her.

She doesn't want their apologies. She wants her wife back.

She tries to deliver her eulogy, but all she can manage is, "She is – was – my everything. I don't know what I'm going to do, because she's my Beca." Her voice breaks and she can't bear the looks of uncomfortable sympathy her audience sends her, so she gives up and sits back down. It doesn't really matter what she says to these people anyway. Beca knows (knew) how she feels (felt? No, feels, always) so that's all that matters.

For their own eulogy, the other Bellas deliver a rendition of "Amazing Grace," leaving an empty space where Beca normally would have stood during a choreo-free performance. Beca would have said it was excessive. Beca would have had a lot to say about her own funeral.

Chloe doesn't sing with them. She can't. It hurts too much.

Music had brought her and Beca together. They'd sung together in a shower the second time they'd met. Over the years, Beca had become all the music Chloe needed in her life.

Chloe hasn't listened to music since Beca died.

She knows she'll never sing again. Not without the other half of what used to be a duet.

Time moves strangely. One moment, she's listening to the Bellas perform, and the next, she's standing outside, watching from the front row as Beca's casket is aligned over a deep hole dug in the ground.

She'd never imagined it would happen like this. She'd always thought they'd go together, or at least within hours of each other in their old age. It feels perverse, that she should be so young and healthy and alive while Beca is being permanently laid to rest. Something has gone wrong in the universe. They were never meant to be separated like this. Chloe knows in her soul that it's wrong for them to have been pulled apart.

She would trade places with Beca in an instant if she could. If it were possible, if she had it her way, it would be her being lowered into the quiet, dark hole while Beca stands, very much alive. But then, she realizes, it would be Beca in pain instead of her. That's not any better. The only acceptable option would be for them to have gone together.

Beca's casket hits the floor of the hole with a muted thud. Chloe absolutely despises how lonely it looks down there. She desperately wants to lie down with Beca, to keep her company forever. At least they'd be together, then.

She's so tired.

Nothing sounds more appealing then climbing down in the hole with Beca for a good long rest.

So, she does.

Chloe walks forward, sits down on the grassy edge of the grave, not caring that her dress is getting dirty. Without so much as a backward glance toward the faceless people behind her, she pushes off to land delicately on top of the casket. She crouches, laying across the top. She likes it better this way. She can't be bothered to move, not even when Aubrey tosses the first handful of soil down on top of her and Beca. She doesn't care at all.

Chloe's eyes fly open and she bolts upright in bed with a gasp. She coughs violently, tasting dirt in her mouth. Her face is wet; she'd been crying in her sleep. Still coughing, she glances at the clock on her nightstand to see that it's 3am. The accident with the gas hauler had been the previous evening, which explains the nightmare. She instinctively reaches a hand to her right, to Beca's side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty.

Her stomach lurches violently and she stares at the open space uncomprehendingly. Beca's gone. Dread washes over her and she fights against her rising panic. No. It had just been a dream, that's all, just a stupid nightmare, it isn't real, Beca isn't dead, there was no funeral, no, Beca is okay, she's just –

Thud. "Ouch! You fucker…" comes a soft voice from outside the bedroom, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Chloe's rapid breaths slow and relief floods her veins when Beca enters the dim room, rubbing her elbow.

"Bec, you're okay," she breathes, dropping her head to her hands.

"Yeah," Beca replies, "I just whacked my arm on the bathroom doorframe."

Chloe laughs once shakily and says, "No, I meant… you're okay."

Beca, maybe picking up on the seriousness of Chloe's tone, moves back into bed quickly to peer closely at Chloe's face. Her eyes widen, and she reaches out to trail her fingers softly over Chloe's cheek. "Hey, you've been crying. What's wrong?" she asks, her voice full of concern.

Chloe sighs and leans into the touch, letting her eyes slide closed. "It's nothing," she replies. "Just a stupid dream."

"It's not nothing," Beca insists. "It upset you. Do you want to talk about it?"

Just thinking about the horror of the nightmare brings a fresh wave of tears to Chloe's eyes. She scoots forward to wrap her arms around her wife, needing to feel Beca securely in her arms. Despite the awkward side angle, Beca holds her tightly, leaning into her in response.

Chloe exhales slowly, trying to calm herself. She whispers, "In my dream, you didn't make it out of that accident." She feels Beca stiffen in her arms, only to relax and squeeze her more tightly.

"It was awful," Chloe continues. "God, your funeral was the worst. So many people were there, all the Bellas and Jesse and even Kimmy Jin, but your dad wasn't and the girls all sang 'Amazing Grace' and –"

"Hold up," Beca interrupts, pulling back to look her in the eyes. "Kimmy Jin? Really?"

"Yes," replies Chloe, confused.

Beca frowns. "That's so weird. I didn't think she liked me."

Chloe gapes. "That's not the point –"

"And 'Amazing Grace'? Seriously? That's just cliché, and frankly somewhat excessive."

"Beca –"

"And oh my God, at least tell me they gave me an adult-size coffin, not some stupid little –"

"It's a casket," Chloe corrects automatically, "not a coffin."

"Still," Beca emphasizes before falling silent.

Chloe stares at her in amazement. Then, finally, she feels a grudging smile lift her lips and Beca smiles tentatively back. Before Chloe knows it, she's laughing quietly as Beca leans to press their foreheads together. And just like that, Chloe's dream doesn't seem so scary anymore. Beca has always known what to do to calm her down.

"Of course you complain about your own funeral," she murmurs.

"Well, yeah," Beca replies. "You only get one, you know? Better make it halfway decent."

Chloe snorts and shakes her head. She married a complete weirdo.

After a moment, Beca says more seriously, "I'm sorry you had that dream. I promise, it's not going to happen anytime soon."

Chloe nods, feeling better already. "Why were you in the bathroom?" she asks as she wipes her eyes, wanting to change the subject.

Beca leans against the headboard, fluffing up a pillow behind her lower back. "Why do you think?" she deadpans.

Chloe shoves her playfully before leaning to mirror her position. Once she's settled, Beca reaches out to drape an arm over her shoulders, drawing her into her side.

"Actually," Beca begins slowly, making Chloe look at her, "I'd just woken up from a bad dream of my own. About the accident. What it looked like. I had to walk around a little, get it out of my head."

Chloe's breath catches. She'd seen live aerial footage of the crash, and that had been horrific enough. She can't imagine what Beca must have seen, so close to it and the loss of life it brought.

"Bec, I'm so sorry…" she trails off, rubbing a hand soothingly over Beca's stomach.

Beca looks over at her with a tight smile. "It's okay," she shrugs. "I'm one of the lucky ones."

Chloe tilts her face up to press a soft kiss against Beca's lips. She feels pretty lucky, too.

"And actually," Beca says, looking away again once their kiss ends, tapping her fingers absentmindedly against Chloe's shoulder, "the whole thing has me thinking… we never really know how much time we have, do we?"

Chloe nods slowly, uncertain of where Beca's going with this.

"And, well, going along with that," Beca adds with a deep breath, "I'd like to talk to you about maybe, one day, possibly… starting a family?" she looks back at Chloe, nervousness shining in her eyes.

Blinking numbly at her, Chloe can only stare. She's pleasantly surprised; she'd thought she'd have to work up to the topic of kids with Beca, and yet here Beca was, bringing it up first.

"Or, uh, you know, if that's what you want?" Beca asks, thrown by Chloe's silence.

Chloe snaps out of her daze and nods rapidly. "Yeah," she says breathlessly, "I do want that. You just surprised me."

Beca grimaces at her. "I know, this isn't how I'd planned on bringing it up, but…"

"No, it's okay," Chloe says quickly. "I was actually going to talk about that with you tomorrow. Well, today. I was going to ask you if you wanted to try for kids."

"Really?" Beca's face brightens even in the darkness of the room. "You were?"

Chloe nods with a small laugh. It's scary sometimes, how much they're on the same page.

"Well, great!" Beca beams – actually beams – at her, only to turn away to stifle a yawn. Once it passes, she looks apologetically back at Chloe and suggests, "But, um, can we maybe have that more serious conversation when we're both properly awake?"

With a grin, Chloe says, "Yes, of course, sleepy head," before leaning to again capture Beca's lips in a kiss. She's never going to get tired of kissing her wife.

Chloe had intended to keep the kiss light and brief, but to her surprise, Beca traces her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. Instinctively, she parts her lips so that their tongues can meet gently. Before she knows it, she's leaning back with Beca hovering over, a knee positioned high between her thighs.

"I thought you were tired," she says teasingly as Beca drops to kiss her neck.

"I was," Beca growls against her skin, making her squirm. "But now, I think I'd rather practice our baby-making, since we both want kids."

Chloe wrinkles her nose, doing her best to ignore the hand creeping under her shirt. "You do know that's not how this works, right?"

"Are you actually complaining right now?" Beca asks, rocking forward into her once.

Chloe's body tenses at the motion. "Nope!" she gasps, moving her hands to Beca's back. "Just pointing out basic biology."

Beca doesn't respond, only rocks into her again.

Chloe lets her eyes slide shut and reaches to pull Beca down and into a searing kiss, her nightmare fading from her mind. Beca is safe, and that's all that matters now.

She can't wait to begin planning for a new addition to their little family.