Prompt: Chloe + Morning Sickness + Hormones

Ship: Chaubrey + Platonic Bechloe

A/N: Because my birthday is on July 8, I decided to add a birthday theme to this prompt. Enjoy!

Birthday Baby Blues

Her birthday isn't supposed to be like this. It's supposed to be fun, just like it always is on the one day out of the whole entire year Aubrey stops being so preoccupied with details and surprises her with something. (Okay, so, maybe Aubrey still gets a little preoccupied with planning and details, but it's the one day out of the year she doesn't nag Chloe about it, because Chloe has no idea what's going on.) It isn't supposed to start with her being hunched over in the bathroom at 5am, debating calling Aubrey's name, because if she wakes up Aubrey, even if she feels better after awhile, Aubrey is basically going to stamp a big red 'cancelled' right over the entire day.

Her stomach gives another violent heave and she lurches forward, expelling what little she has left inside of her. This baby hates her. It hates her so much, she's about to start vomiting up all of her internal organs at this point. She's going to vomit up the baby, because it has to be the only thing in her stomach. She groans and heaves again. This is all Aubrey's fault. It was her idea. If you want kids, then you carry them, Chloe, Aubrey had told her, because I sure as hell will not. Chloe understands her adamant refusal now as she struggles to hold her own hair back, her stomach still convinced she has more she can throw up. She's had morning sickness for the past few weeks, but never this bad – and on her birthday, nonetheless. She retches again, and this time she can hear footsteps in the hall – Aubrey's as well as the tiny pitter patter of dog feet.

"Why didn't you wake me up, Chloe?" Aubrey flips on the bathroom light and turns the sink on, as Bruno flops down on the floor beside her and rolls onto his back in hopes of a belly rub.

Chloe doesn't know which one of them is more irritating until Aubrey turns off the sink then kneels down behind her and helps her hold her hair back, placing a cool cloth against the back of her neck. Bruno is the most annoying. Aubrey can stay for now. She fumbles blindly for the roll of toilet paper, then just clutches the squares she manages to rip off as another wave of nausea causes her to hurl again. The only person who has ever managed to throw up more than this has got to be Aubrey. "I want to transfer the baby to you," she whimpers, "You're used to this. We should have just got another dog."

Aubrey rubs her back. "I hope you don't tell it that when it's born," she says, blatantly ignoring the first part of the statement. "You okay now?"

"It already knows." Chloe shakily wipes her mouth off then reaches forward and flushes the toilet. She falls back on her bottom and slouches against the wall as Aubrey moves the cloth from her neck to her forehead. "That's why it hates me." She leans her head back against the tiles and closes her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Bruno tries to climb on her lap, and Aubrey slides him across the floor as Chloe cringes in discomfort.

"Don't you think that's a little dramatic?" Aubrey asks.

"No." Chloe replaces Aubrey's hand in holding the cloth against her forehead and leans forward with her elbow rested on her knee, her other arm around her stomach. Bruno clambers back over to her and nudges her arm until she stops holding her stomach in order to scratch his head. Her stomach rolls and growls at the same time, sending her mixed signals about whether she needs to stoop herself back over the toilet again or start devouring everything in the kitchen. She just leans sideways against Aubrey instead, trying to ignore both sensations – even though it feels like she's being eaten from the inside out. Maybe the baby is actually a Wendigo.

Aubrey sighs and wraps her arm around Chloe's shoulders. "Can you make it back to bed?" she asks.

For now. Chloe nods and lets Aubrey help her to her feet. Her legs feel like jello, and she doesn't realize she's trembling until she's trying to stand. "What are we doing today?" She abandons the cloth on the sink counter and follows Aubrey back down the hallway to their bedroom.

"We're not doing anything," Aubrey answers, "You're going back to bed." She stops next to Chloe's side of the bed and fixes the blankets. "Get in."

Chloe's stomach sinks, but not in a sick way. "But we have to do something. We always do something." Last year, Aubrey took her on a road trip across the Northeast Coast. The year before, they took the weekend to visit nearly every museum in New York City. Before that, they went to a music festival. She finds it hard to believe Aubrey would just forget it's her birthday. "I'm fine. I feel better now." If better means her stomach feels like it's trying to claw its way out of her body.

Aubrey quirks her brows in amusement. "If you're worried about your birthday, don't be," she says, "I thought ahead, and I got you a gift this year instead. It'll be here sometime today."

It isn't that Chloe isn't appreciative of gifts. She is. But her face falls in disappointment, because she and Aubrey don't do birthday gifts. They explore new places and try new things, and it's something she always looks forward to.

"You're going to like it, Chloe, I promise." Aubrey pats the bed. "It's early. You should try to get some more sleep."

Chloe turns and sinks down so she's sitting on the bed, resting her hands on her knees. "But we always go do something…"

"Well, maybe you and your gift can go do something later," Aubrey suggests, "Now lie down."

Chloe slowly curls up on her side, staring at the wall as Aubrey covers her up with the duvet. Bruno leaps up onto the bed beside her then snuggles behind her legs and rests his head on her thigh. He usually likes Aubrey so much more, much to Aubrey's exasperation; he must realize her day is already turning out to be miserable.

"I'll be right back." Aubrey squeezes her shoulder then turns and leaves the room.

Bruno's head snaps up the moment Aubrey leaves the room, and he barks when she disappears from sight.

"Same," Chloe mumbles and watches the doorway for her to come back.

Aubrey returns moments later and walks over to Chloe's side of the bed again. "If you're going to throw up again, Chloe, right here," she says as she places a tupperware container on the nightstand. She places a glass of something clear and fizzy next to it, then folds her arms and looks down at Chloe.

Chloe looks at the empty container and cringes. "The bathroom is right there," she whines and makes a vague hand motion in the direction of the bathroom. "I'm not on bed rest."

Aubrey rolls her eyes. "Any other time you're sick, you want me to be doting on you," she reminds her. "Remember last time you were sick – when you had strep throat?"

"That was different," Chloe mumbles and pulls the duvet up over her chin, "I'm not actually sick this time." She can't believe Aubrey would hold that over her. She had a hundred and three degree fever, and it hurt so badly that at one point she cried just trying to swallow her own spit. But, then again, she can totally believe Aubrey would hold that over her, because she also cried when Aubrey tried to go to the pharmacy to pick up her medication, and she had to call their neighbor to go do it.

"Are you going to yell for me if you need me?" Aubrey asks.

Chloe looks down at the floor, lightly rubbing the edge of the duvet back and forth across her lips for comfort.

Aubrey frowns and tilts her head.

Chloe sorts through her options. She could say yes, and let Aubrey go through her usual morning routines. Or she could milk the whole Aubrey doting over her thing, because it is her birthday and her stomach feels miserable, and she can't say she doesn't like the affectionate side of Aubrey. She shrugs.

"I know what you're doing," Aubrey states. She walks around to her own side of the bed and crawls underneath the blankets, pulling Chloe back against her as best as she can with Bruno in between them. "You're lucky it's your birthday." She gets them settled then wraps her arm around Chloe and gently rubs her stomach.

"No, I'm not." Chloe continues rubbing the blanket against her lips. "It's already turning out to bed a terrible birthday."

"It's like five in the morning," Aubrey points out, "The day hasn't even started."

"I want waffles," Chloe mumbles, thinking about them out of nowhere, "Do we have waffle mix?"

"You just threw up, and now you want waffles?" Aubrey stops rubbing her stomach.

"My stomach is empty," Chloe complains, "And if I puke again, I want it to be because of waffles with butter and strawberries on them." No other food in the entire world sounds even remotely appetizing, but waffles definitely sound worth throwing her guts up into a plastic container over right now. She rolls onto her back. "If we're not going to do anything, can we at least have sex later, if I feel better?"

Aubrey looks caught somewhere between annoyed and thoroughly entertained. "Your breath smells like vomit," she points out, "Brush your teeth, then maybe I'll think about it."

Chloe frowns. "There are other places for your mouth to be than on mine," she hints.

"Chloe, you're going to be so wrapped up in your gift, that you're not going to want to have sex later. You're going to be busy for like a whole week with it, and I'll be the one left to my own devices." Aubrey pauses. "Which are technically your devices, because I don't shop for that stuff."

Chloe narrows her eyes. "Who said you could use my vibrators without me?" she asks. She's not sure why Aubrey would even need them without her, when she is always down to use them together.

"I pay the rent here," Aubrey reminds her.

Chloe rubs her face, her muscles hurting from frowning. "You sound like my parents." She groans as she hears Aubrey draw in a confused breath. "Regarding the rent, not vibrators." Some images are just never meant to be imagined, and she flops over onto her stomach, trying to block such images out. She buries her face in her pillow. "You're the worst."

Aubrey slips her hand under the back of Chloe's shirt, rubbing circles on her back. "You're not going to be saying that later," she assures her, "Go to sleep."

xxxxx

Chloe falls asleep telling herself that she's not going to wake up still feeling sick – which makes it suck all the more when she wakes up still totally feeling sick. The clock reads 9am, and neither Aubrey nor Bruno are curled up in bed with her anymore. She breathes through a wave of nausea as she slowly sits up, and grabs the glass off the table, trying to settle her stomach with the now almost-flat sprite. It quenches some of her thirst, but it does nothing for her stomach. "Aubrey." She places the glass back down and bends her legs, resting her forehead on her knees.

Aubrey walks into the bedroom, the same familiar little feet trotting loyally behind her. "The bucket is right beside you, Chloe," she says after taking one look at her. "Here." She picks up the container and sits down on the edge of the bed. "It's okay."

Chloe lifts her head and takes it from her, tears springing into her eyes. "I don't ever feel sick when I wake back up," she mumbles, her chin starting to quiver.

"You're getting further along," Aubrey says, "It's going to happen some days. If it gets too bad, we can make an appointment with the doctor."

"I don't care if it happens other days." Chloe knows she would be just as miserable on all of the other days of the year, but that's not the point. "I just don't want to feel sick today." She wipes at her cheek with her wrist then holds the container under her chin.

Aubrey moves so she's sitting slightly behind her and starts gathering back her hair. "I can understand why you're upset."

"No, you can't, because you don't even want to go do anything." Chloe sniffles, crying just making her feel worse.

"I went to very extreme lengths to procure this gift for you, Chloe." Aubrey rubs her free hand up and down the length of Chloe's back. "It's going to be worth staying home for, and you're sick anyway. Wouldn't you feel worse if I had planned something and we couldn't go?"

Chloe shrugs. She isn't sick. She's just pregnant. But it doesn't matter, because her stomach is suddenly imploring her to stop talking. She sniffles again and stares miserably at the bottom of the plastic container, hovering on the line between feeling like she's going to throw up and actually doing it. She has to at least admit to herself that Aubrey was right and being hunched over on their soft bed is far more comfortable than the bathroom floor was earlier.

"I'm sorry today isn't what you wanted," Aubrey says, softer this time.

Chloe wants to tell her it's fine, but it isn't fine, and she's not sure she could say anything else if she wanted to. She closes her eyes as her stomach heaves, not wanting to watch as all the sprite she drank comes back up again. The soothing feeling of Aubrey's hand sliding under the back of her shirt and rubbing her bare skin almost distracts her from the burning in her throat and nose. Almost. She coughs a few times as her stomach settles back down, not putting up a fight as Aubrey stops rubbing her back to grab some tissues from nightstand and helps her wipe her mouth and nose off. This is awful. Or maybe it's just her hormones telling her it's worse than it is. Hot tears roll down her cheeks to gather at her chin, and she sobs and tries to lean back into Aubrey.

Aubrey takes the container from her hands and places it back on the nightstand then helps her adjust so she's sitting between Aubrey's legs and can curl up into her. "Do you feel any better after you throw up?" she asks and cradles her, "At least for a few moments?"

Chloe nods against her shoulder. Bruno jumps up onto the bed beside them, and Chloe reaches out and pets him before Aubrey can push him back down. She entangles her other hand in the fabric of Aubrey's shirt sleeve and resolves to just crying into her shoulder, because there is nothing else she can do like this.

Aubrey gives her a squeeze. "You need to go brush your teeth and drink some water," she says, "And then we can watch a movie on the couch. Whatever movie you want."

Chloe shakes her head, despite that her mouth tastes like something died in it and it's just making her nauseated again.

"It wasn't a question." Aubrey eases her upright and wipes her cheeks with the palm of her hand. "You can't lie in bed and cry all day. You can relax on the couch and hang out with me. I'll go with you." She ignores Chloe's resistance to move and maneuvers them both to their feet, keeping one arm around Chloe's shoulders. "Let's go." She grabs the container with her free hand and shoots Bruno a look as he prepares to follow them.

Chloe reluctantly lets Aubrey lead her into the bathroom and stop her in front of the sink. She stares at her toothbrush as Aubrey takes a seat on the edge of the bathtub and uses the tub faucet to rinse out the tupperware. Her toothbrush doesn't look particularly menacing, but the thought of her peppermint toothpaste has her pressing the back of her hand against her lips to suppress a gag. "Can I use your toothpaste?"

Aubrey glances at her and nods. "It's in the cabinet."

Chloe opens the cabinet above the sink and grabs Aubrey's cinnamon toothpaste to put on her toothbrush. The task is a lot less nauseating than she expects it to be. She brushes her teeth then takes the clean container back when Aubrey hands it to her and follows her down the hall toward the living room.

"I still want waffles," Chloe tells her, bypassing the couch to walk into the kitchen.

"I don't think waffles are a good idea for your stomach right now," Aubrey says, walking with her, "How about some toast or crackers for now?"

Chloe stops next to the kitchen table and presses the heel of her hand to her forehead, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"Birthday waffles, it is," Aubrey says and walks over to the counter. "Try to drink some water."

Chloe ignores her and pulls out a chair, sitting down at the table. She folds her arms and buries the lower half of her face against them, watching as Bruno sniffs around for his favorite food pieces in his bowl.

Aubrey opens the cabinet above the stove and pulls down the kettle.

Chloe glances at her, frowning as she fills it with water. "That isn't how you make waffles," she mumbles into her arm.

"That isn't how you drink water," Aubrey retaliates. She places the kettle on the stove then turns it on and pulls out the waffle iron. "Oh!" She puts the waffle iron on the counter then gathers a few things lying next to the sink. "Some cards came in the mail for you, and your phone has been going off all morning." She walks over to the table and places a few envelopes and Chloe's phone in front of her then rubs the back of Chloe's head for a few seconds before resuming her waffle making.

Chloe stares bitterly at the envelopes for a few moments before picking up one that's from Stacie. She opens it and skims the dirty birthday joke inside, not bothering to actually read it, then puts it back down and picks up her phone. 63 Unread Messages. Not many of the birthday texts are from people she actually talks to daily. She scrolls down through them, stopping when she notices one of them is from Beca. A smile starts to tug at the corners of her lips and she opens it up.

Beca: Happy Birthday, Chlo! Have a good one!

Chloe quickly texts her back.

Chloe: Thanks, Bec.

Chloe's phone chimes a few seconds later, and she smiles wider as Beca's name pops up.

"Beca?" Aubrey addresses her sudden change in demeanor.

Chloe nods.

Beca: Any wild plans for the day?

Chloe stares at the text for a few moments before she decides to answer by calling her. She presses her phone against her ear, resting her head down sideways against her free arm. The phone rings several times, until Chloe just assumes she isn't going to answer, until Beca picks up.

"Hey! Hi!" Beca says loudly over some commotion in the background, sounding surprised Chloe called her, "Hey, Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks," Chloe says, struggling to hear her, "Where are you?"

"Oh, uh, I'm at the mall," Beca answers, "Where are you? You and Aubrey got any big plans?"

"No," Chloe mutters, eyeing Aubrey as she pours water from the kettle into two mugs, "I threw up, because I'm pregnant, and that's what pregnant people do, and she put me under house arrest."

"No," Aubrey corrects her and adds teabags to the mugs, "You threw up and I told you to go back to sleep, then you woke up and threw up again, and now I'm making you waffles." She places one of the mugs down in front of Chloe. "Drink that before you dehydrate."

Chloe frowns. She lifts her head and takes a few miniscule sips of tea.

"Dude, that sucks," Beca says, "How is the baby?"

"Good." Chloe places her mug back down. "Healthy. Aubrey thinks it's going to be a boy, but I think she's a girl. And possibly a cannibalistic serial killer. I thought she might be a Wendigo, but now I think she's just starting to take after Aubrey already."

Beca snorts.

"I will have you know," Aubrey says, not looking up from the waffle mix, "That I have neither eaten nor simply killed another person, but you are beginning to push on that nerve this morning."

"Well, it's my birthday, so you can at least eat me before you kill me," Chloe comments.

"I'm going to end up on an episode of Snapped one day," Aubrey murmurs to herself and pours the mix into the waffle iron.

"Gross," Beca whispers, "Next topic."

Bruno nudges his bowl with his nose then turns and barks up at Aubrey, causing her to frown. He barks again then whines.

Aubrey places her hand flat on the counter and looks down at him. "It's waffle mix, you stupid mutt," she tells him, "You can't eat this."

Bruno whines again.

"No." Aubrey returns to making waffles as Bruno collapses dramatically at her feet.

"Is that Aubrey arguing with the dog again?" Beca asks.

"Always," Chloe says, watching the two of them.

"I still can't believe you let her name it Bruno," Beca says.

"It was the lesser of two evils." Honestly, Chloe would do anything to keep her from naming their poor child after Bruno Mars. She hoped it would help Aubrey bond with their dog, but it seems Bruno bonded more to Aubrey rather than the other way around.

There is an odd sound in the background, like someone talking over an intercom, but Chloe can't make out the words.

"Shit," Beca hisses, "Hey, Chlo, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later?"

"Oh." Chloe looks down at her tea and tries to mask the disappointment in her voice.

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry. But I'll call you later. Promise," Beca says.

"Okay," Chloe has no other choice but to resign, "I'll talk to you later. Love you, Beca."

"Right," Beca says, "Yeah, uh, love, love you, too." She hangs up.

"You know it makes her uncomfortable when you say that," Aubrey points out and pulls out a plate.

"So?" Chloe places her phone down on the table. "She's my best friend, and I love her. You should always tell your friends you love them. What if they died in some spontaneous plane crash, and you never told them."

"I don't think Beca is going to die in a plane crash today," Aubrey says.

"I think it makes you more uncomfortable I tell her I love her than it makes her." Chloe raises her eyebrows.

"I think you should shut up and eat your waffle." Aubrey puts the plate down in front of her.

"Ew." Chloe pokes at it with her finger. "It's plain."

"I'm not your mother, Chloe." Aubrey pulls the butter and strawberries out of the refrigerator and places them on the table next to Chloe's plate.

"Thank God," Chloe says, "She would make me make my own waffles – even on my birthday."

"I pray one day I'll have her strength." Aubrey walks back over to the counter and starts to make another waffle, presumably for herself. "Beca didn't talk long," she points out.

"Yeah, she said she was at the mall." Chloe takes a fork from the center of the table and uses it to butter her waffle.

"Oh," Aubrey says, "Maybe she'll buy you a gift."

"It's weird; she usually sends me a card." Chloe looks at the cards in front of her. None of them are from Beca. She shrugs. It was just nice to hear her voice with her senior year of college keeping her so busy. Sometimes Chloe has to call her to listen to her voicemail just to hear the sound of her voice. She places several strawberries directly on top of her waffle.

"Does your stomach feel better now?" Aubrey asks.

Chloe shrugs and takes a bite of her food. It still feels queasy, but necessarily like she's going to throw up again. The waffle seems to even make it feel kind of better. "It feels good enough that we could go somewhere…"

Aubrey sighs and sits down at the table with her own waffle.

"Seriously." Chloe takes another bite. "I would even settle for going to Target at this point."

Aubrey plasters on the smile she uses when she's trying to cover up that her feelings have been hurt. "Chloe," she says calmly, looking at the center of the table, "I went to a lot of trouble to get this gift for you, and I spent a lot of money to have it shipped here, far more than I would have personally liked to. But I don't regret it, and I'm not sending it back, because I know that you're going to like it more than anywhere I could drive you to. So you're going to have to suck it up and face that you're not going anywhere today, especially when you would probably just throw up in my car." She lets out a long breath and roughly cuts her waffle with the side of her fork, not bothering with butter or strawberries.

Chloe pauses from chewing her waffle, realization that she's kind of being a dick dawning on her. She swallows and taps her fork on her plate. "I'm sorry, Bree," she says quietly, "I guess I'm just used to how things usually are."

"It's fine." Aubrey nods, not looking up.

That definitely means it's not fine. Chloe puts her fork down and stands up, rounding the table until she's standing next to Aubrey. She bends down with her knee on the edge of Aubrey's chair and pulls her sideways into a hug. "That was really rude of me." She relaxes as Aubrey leans into her. "I know I'm going to love whatever it is you got me. I was just hoping to spend time with you outside of our usual eating waffles."

Aubrey looks up at her. "I have never seen you eat a waffle until now," she points out, "You bought the waffle iron, and I am the only one who eats waffles."

Chloe gives her a sheepish grin. "I don't actually know how to use it," she admits, "I threw out the instructions."

Aubrey blinks. "And you never thought to ask me all the times you saw me eating waffles?"

Good point. "Can you show me how to use the waffle iron?" Chloe asks.

Aubrey just stares at her.

"What?" Chloe asks, "You literally just told me to ask you how to use it."

Aubrey takes a deep, self-possessed breath. "When your mom calls to wish you a happy birthday, I want to talk to her," she says, "I want to know how she allowed you to live this long."

Chloe releases Aubrey from her hug. "She said she never killed me and my brother because Daddy was too poor to bail her out of prison." She rounds the table, back to her own seat. "I've already asked her that."

"And yet you never thought to ask me how to use our waffle iron?" Aubrey asks, "How were you the fastest sperm, Chloe?"

Chloe pauses, debating whether or not she should take offense to that question. She shrugs and sits back down. "If you ever met my biological parents, you would understand," she explains casually.

"I pray for our child." Aubrey leans across the table and grabs some of the strawberries.

"Hey, you are the one that did not want to carry it," Chloe reminds her, "If it takes after me, that's your own fault."

Aubrey frowns down at her waffle, cutting off another piece. "I'm hoping it's more like its father," she says.

"We used a sperm donor; we don't even know its father," Chloe says.

"Exactly." Aubrey makes eye contact with her, slowly chewing.

"I don't regret being rude to you so much now." Chloe takes a sip of her tea. It warms her stomach, calming it down. "Can we still watch any movie I want?"

"It depends on the movie," Aubrey says.

Chloe gives her a knowing look. This is like when she tells Chloe she can pick where they eat, then changes her words to say it depends on where Chloe chooses, then continuously says no to all of Chloe's suggestions until she names the place that Aubrey wants to go. She isn't stupid. "Earlier, you said any movie."

"Earlier, I was trying to convince you to stop crying," Aubrey reminds her.

Chloe looks down and picks at her last few bites of waffle. It isn't that she means to start tearing up to get her way, or to get upset over something so trivial at all really. But, seriously, earlier, Aubrey told her any movie. Her hormones get the best of her and she sniffles and swallows back the lump forming in her throat.

"Okay, fine," Aubrey drops her fork down on her plate, "Fine. Any movie you want. Please, don't cry anymore."

The fact that Aubrey is mad at her for crying makes her want to cry even more, even though she knows Aubrey isn't mad at her for crying, because Aubrey is just staring at her like she has no idea what the hell just happened. Chloe stabs her waffle with her fork then stuffs a giant bite into her mouth. She chews and swallows before she decides to milk her tears for all they're worth. "Can we still have sex too?" she asks thickly.

Aubrey groans and picks her fork up again.

xxxxx

"So, when do I get my gift?" Chloe asks. She shifts farther away from the edge of the couch and in closer to Aubrey, more focused on Aubrey's fingers gently drawing shapes on her stomach than the movie. The baby must like it, because she doesn't feel all that sick anymore.

Aubrey glances at the clock. "In a few hours," she answers.

"FedEx usually comes by now," Chloe says.

"It's not coming by FedEx," Aubrey says.

"UPS?" Chloe asks.

"No," Aubrey says.

"USPS?" Chloe guesses again.

Aubrey looks at her. "Chloe…"

"I'm sorry; I just want to know what it is." Chloe shifts impatiently.

"I want you to know what it is, too," Aubrey says, "But you're going to have to wait."

"Why?" Chloe all but whines.

"Because it isn't here yet, Chloe." Aubrey looks at the TV.

Chloe groans and arches her back, rolling sideways into Aubrey.

Aubrey pauses her fingers against Chloe's stomach, waiting until she lies back down to resume tracing shapes. "Maybe you should go back to sleep," she suggests, "It might be here when you wake up."

"Fine." Chloe is tired. Exhausted, actually. It doesn't feel like she slept until nine. It feels like she never went back to bed after she woke up at five. She rolls onto her side so she's facing Aubrey and intertwines their legs, curling up into her. Aubrey is warm and she smells like some sort of floral perfume rather than her normal fruity body spray that Chloe is sure would just make her nauseated, and Chloe has never felt so cozy. "Do I get a cake?" she asks.

"Do you want a cake?" Aubrey asks, "I can go get you a cake."

Chloe shakes her head. "Cake would make me throw up."

Aubrey pats her back. "Take a nap."

Chloe sighs and closes her eyes, listening to Jumanji play in the background until she falls asleep.

xxxxx

Chloe feels like shit again when she wakes back up. Jumanji is over. Bruno is lying down next to one of his toys, absently growling at it. Aubrey has moved to the chair as is reading a book. And Chloe rests her hand on her stomach and tries to convince herself that it's just a normal day and she doesn't feel this terrible. She lets out a long breath and closes her eyes again, curling up against the back of the couch.

"Do you want some water or some more tea?" Aubrey asks.

Chloe shakes her head. It feels like she's motions sick, which would make sense if the couch was moving and not a stationary object. If she could get up and take her mind off of it, she's half convinced she might feel better. The only problem is, she's doesn't think she can get up – feeling nauseated far past just trying to milk it for Aubrey's attention now. She swallows back the thick saliva forming in her mouth, curling up tighter into a ball.

"Do you need anything?" Aubrey tries again.

Chloe slowly rolls onto her stomach, trying to find any sort of position that might give her some relief. She feels better for all of five seconds before the nausea returns in full-force. It isn't going to go away. She reaches out one arm, blindly feeling around on the coffee table for the plastic container. If she moves any other part of her body, she's going to throw up before she can manage to get it under her mouth.

"For serious?" Aubrey asks, and Chloe can hear her standing up, "You can beg me to make you waffles, but you can't ask me for help when you really need it?"

Somehow, waffles still sounds heavenly.

"Chloe, Sweetie, sit up." Aubrey grabs the container for her then takes her by the arm and helps her maneuver herself upright, sitting down beside her.

Chloe slouches sideways against her. She considers taking the container from her, but her stomach feels more comfortable with her arms wrapped around it, so she just lets Aubrey hold the tupperware under her chin. She knows that Aubrey doesn't fret that much about dealing with vomit – at least not her own or Chloe's. She swallows again, willing herself to just throw up and get it over with.

"I'm going to try to set up an appointment with your doctor tomorrow," Aubrey says, "That way, if this happens again, we'll know if there's anything we can do."

"Can we go now?" Chloe mumbles.

"Are you really that desperate to go somewhere for your birthday that you'd even go to the OBGYN?" Aubrey gives her a light squeeze.

Chloe knows she's trying to be funny, but she can't laugh.

"We're not going to go right now," Aubrey says, "We don't have an appointment, and it's not an emergency. I know this isn't how you want to feel, but you're okay. You're alright. Plus, we need to be home, because your gift will be here soon."

Chloe isn't sure she cares about her birthday anymore. It's hard to care about anything outside of her stomach feeling like it's on Spin Cycle. She sniffles and closes her eyes.

"Will you let me go get you some water?" Aubrey asks, "That might help."

Chloe shakes her head. She doesn't want Aubrey to leave now that she's sitting next to her.

Aubrey makes sure all of her hair is tucked behind her ears and out of her face then rubs her free hand up and down Chloe's arm.

Chloe feels like she's on a rollercoaster. Or an airplane. Or a boat. Or something. And she just wants to get off. But her stomach apparently wants to stay on, because it just keeps turning itself around in circles. "I want to take something," she begs, blinking back tears.

"You can't take anything unless it's prescribed to you right now," Aubrey says, "Tomorrow, we'll see what we can do."

Tomorrow. Chloe isn't like Aubrey when it comes to nausea. She can't just accept it and power through it like it's nothing, and she doesn't understand how it doesn't bother Aubrey outside of just mere embarrassment. Time seems to slow down as she waits for tomorrow, and she doesn't bother holding back a sob. Once again, crying just makes her feel worse, which only makes her want to cry harder.

"Shhh. I know," Aubrey tries to soothe her, still rubbing her arm, "You're okay. This is all going to be worth it in a few months."

Aubrey is right, but it doesn't actually make Chloe feel any better as her stomach lurches and she dry heaves. She can only hope this baby doesn't give her as much hell outside of her as it's doing inside of her. She gags again, her stomach not nearly as fond of waffles as the rest of her is.

"That's okay," Aubrey hums as her stomach starts forcing out every last bit of her breakfast, "You're gonna feel better in a moment."

Chloe releases one arm from being wrapped around her stomach and entangles her fingers in the back of Aubrey's shirt for a sense of more comfort. Her stomach doesn't ease up until it has forced out all of her energy along with her breakfast. She slouches against Aubrey's side, not sure she could support herself if she tried to.

Aubrey stops rubbing her arm long enough to grab a tissue from the stand beside the couch and press it into Chloe's hand.

Chloe shakily wipes her mouth then drops the tissue into the container.

"I need to go clean this," Aubrey tells her, "Lie back down, and I'll be right back."

Chloe is still for a moment, trying to catch her breath and regain her composure. She reluctantly does as she's told as Aubrey stands up, curling back up into a ball with her face buried in the couch cushion. Her chest burns from exertion, and she focuses on taking slow breaths, her entire body trembling. There is a knock on the front door, and she tucks her face deeper into the couch as Bruno starts to bark. "Aubrey," she calls weakly, unsure if she can even hear her, "Someone is at the door."

"That's probably your gift!" Aubrey calls from the bathroom, "Answer the door!"

Chloe lifts her head a few centimeters up from the cushion and glances at the door. Is Aubrey serious? She can barely sit up. She props her head up with her hand, puffing out her cheeks as she exhales and tries to regain some strength. "Aubrey, what if it's the cute FedEx guy?" she whines, "He can't see me like this!" Shit, can he hear her through the door? But she can only imagine what she looks like – pale, her eyes red from crying, her hair a mess. She's still in her pajamas!

"Chloe, I told you that FedEx is not coming here today," Aubrey reminds her, not returning from the bathroom, "Now go answer the door."

Chloe slowly pushes herself into a sitting position and looks at the door. If it's not bad enough that her stomach is sick and they're not going anywhere, it is bad enough that Aubrey can't even present her with whatever gift she bought her. She wobbly gets to her feet and straightens her shirt down over her shorts as she walks to the door. She sniffles and wipes at her cheeks before grabbing Bruno by the collar and pulling him out of the way. She unlocks the door then opens it, preparing herself to accept a package. But the person standing in front of her isn't carrying anything. She wipes at her face with her palm again and looks up in confusion, then freezes and wonders if hallucinations are a part of morning sickness as well.

"Hi," Beca says, grinning at her, holding her arms open for a hug.

"Oh my god," are the only words Chloe can fumble to get out. She closes the distance between them, barely realizing what's happening until she has Beca wrapped in the tightest hug she's ever given anyone. This definitely isn't a hallucination. More tears well up in her eyes, and she doesn't bother to stop them from spilling down her cheeks. She pulls back and places her hands on Beca's cheeks, looking at her face in front of her for the first time in three years.

"Are those hormones or are you just happy to see me?" Beca jokes and winks at her.

It's definitely not the hormones. Chloe breathes a tearful laugh and wraps her in another crushing hug, unsure if she's starting to laugh or sob.

"Are you happy?" Aubrey asks from somewhere behind her.

It suddenly sinks in that this is her gift. That Aubrey actually flew Beca in from Atlanta for her. It's the best thing Aubrey's ever done for her birthday. Chloe releases Beca and turns around, embracing Aubrey in an even tighter hug than she gave Beca. "I would kiss you, but I taste like vomit," she mumbles into her shirt.

"I appreciate you not kissing me," Aubrey says, rubbing her back.

Chloe pulls back and looks at Beca again to make sure she's actually real. She has had some vivid dreams since getting pregnant. "Where are you staying?" she asks, having a hard time believing Aubrey would willingly put up with her for very long. She places one hand on her forehead and her other on her stomach, trying to will away another wave of nausea. She can't feel sick right now.

"Here," Beca says and steps inside, pulling her suitcase in with her. She closes the door. "I'll be here for a week."

Here. For a week. This is when her hormones kick in. Chloe buries her face in her hands, dissolving into tears. Even if she can't do much today, they have an entire week. And Beca is staying here. She tries to pull herself together so they can start making the most of their time.

"I didn't realize you were going to be this happy to see me," Beca laughs.

Chloe sniffles. "You weren't at the mall!" It sinks in, and she grins. "You were at the airport!" She turns to Aubrey. "See, she could have died in a spontaneous plane crash!"

Aubrey shrugs and glances at Beca. "One could only hope," she deadpans.

Chloe wraps Beca in a third hug, tucking her face against Beca's shoulder. Morning sickness or not, this is one of the best days of her entire life. "I missed you," she whispers, still trying to believe this is real.

"I missed you." Beca pats her back. "But this is a lot of hugging. You're like Poppy from that Trolls movie." She's just going to have to accept that Chloe doesn't plan to release her from this hug for the next week. If Chloe has anything to do with it, Beca won't be able to leave, because Chloe plans to hug her forever.

"One more thing…" Aubrey says.

Chloe lifts her head, not sure of she can process anything else.

Beca looks at Chloe and sighs. "I decided yes to being the baby's God Mother or whatever," she says through her teeth, trying to hide a smile.

Aubrey shakes her head and smiles as Chloe lets out a loud gasp. "Happy Birthday, Chloe."