Author's Note: Surprised that people liked chapter 1. I expect people want happy endings. This is not that kind of story. I blame the fact that I literally dreamed it. Not daydream. No, my subconscious was horrible. And so as Miss Taylor Swift says "don't say I didn't warn ya"...(I love the song Blank Space & I can't lie about it cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.)

Everything was slow. So painfully fucking slow. At a pace that Chloe was becoming a little frustrated at, but Beca didn't allow her to speed anything up. If anything Beca went slower. For a second the older woman thought it was out of spite and manipulation but Beca made a point to look down at her and flat out said,"it's almost been a decade since.." and she stopped herself from saying we did this. They weren't a we. And she didn't feel the need to be so bare, candid, express her thoughts in saying 'we did this and I want to memorize it all because there's too much history.'

This is temporary. There's no doubt this is temporary. All we have is day to day, minute by minute.It was hard to not look at Chloe, not try to make mental pictures of really blue eyes.

"Can you.." Chloe started but stopped when she felt the brunette tense above her. Uneasy as she breathed deeply and abruptly halted.

It was Beca's experience when Chloe asked her anything it resulted in a visceral, painful reaction and an overt attempt at shutting off certain emotions. First you asked me to care less, second you asked me to erase anything good and I had replied okay and hoped...there wouldn't be a third.

Of course she wasn't about to say any of her thoughts. They were there, in her body language, on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't hate Chloe. She loved Chloe, she knew that, but she stopped caring. It was strange because she knew they went together, intertwined. But they had untwined and disconnected because Chloe asked her to.

"What?" The smaller woman, who happened to be in more control asked with an edge. Another dare for Chloe. Be honest. Ask me something else so I can say okay like agreeing doesn't hurt.

It was clear the red head was debating. A tense minute passed but with a shake of her head, a pull and grasp to bring Beca closer she kissed her again, trying to get accustomed to this slower pace that wasn't like before and wasn't like anyone else.

So it was slow. And still Chloe felt like Beca treated her with care and also like she was devouring her, breathing her in, holding her like she was fleeting and evaporating in front of her.

Even though she had thought at one point in the very early hour as Chloe was asleep and morning light was far away I missed this. She kissed her shoulder so she wouldn't say it as she rested her hand on the muscular line below her sternum. Definition that was still there years later. Feeling a heart beat without having her hand over her heart.How is this one of my favorite places to rest my hand on her? I loved her neck, her hands, but this is it. Because its a spot close to the heart? Because I can feel the beat? Because Chloe is like a song I've fucking memorized?She groaned lightly, moved her hand and turned away. I'm not going to fucking add something to the list of things I'll miss. A last thought before she fell into sleep.

When she woke it was disorienting and unnerving. It was early. She could feel it. The stillness and quiet of certain hours. She moved her hand to the side of the bed and felt coldness...or the absence of body heat. Slowly she turned her head, looked around the simple room and wasn't surprised Chloe wasn't present. For a minute she took in the sunlight coming in from the sheer curtain, another in their long list of differences. Chloe was such a morning person and teased her once about her blackout curtains. At the time she had told her its for the safety of others I get quality sleep which made Chloe laugh which made Beca momentarily happy. That was the past.

Stiffly she got out of bed, swinging her legs around, cracking her neck and pulled the sheet around her for warmth. She had every intent of getting out in the next couple seconds as she looked on the side table at the ice water Chloe had left her. A kind gesture. There wasn't a need to over think it. She had barely been tipsy and she didn't need to replay the night because Chloe had made the first step but Beca took the steps after that. With a brief glance around she found her pants and shirt. In a rush she put them on, mind going quickly of her to do list for the day so she could leave and not trick herself into thinking it was more than what it was.

After the water was gone, leaving the ice cubes to clink and rattle in the glass she half expected Chloe to walk in from the sound as she stood by the doorway. She was about to go upstairs and grab her phone but she heard humming down the hallway. Without thinking she followed because Chloe's singing was always nice, but her humming was always telling-an intimate openness that wasn't present when she performed with the Bellas.

Chloe sat comfortably in a chair, one foot on the seat, arm wrapped around her leg as she read the paper. It looked typical, like it was her routine and Beca took it in.

How the guys blue dress shirt looked casual and somehow amazing on her. She didn't fall down the rabbit hole and question if it was an ex's shirt. A husband. If she got divorced. It wasn't her business. But she wasn't about to deny Chloe looked relaxed...and...bruised.

Really bruised. On her thighs that were visible and her forearm that was visible as the redhead had her elbow on the table and pen in hand.

Then the house was loud with a crash and glass shattering. Beca looked down and blinked in shock she had dropped the cup. She stood there longer than she imagined because by the time Chloe repeated Beca by the third time she was standing next to her.

"Beca. What's wrong?" The taller woman asked concerned and pulled her hand back in midair as though she wanted to touch the brunette and somehow reassure her. They both knew it was in Chloe's nature to be affectionate and loving but she held back.

"I didn't do that.." she said with an undertone of uncertainty as she stood stiffly and forced herself to look at Chloe's leg.

"No." She frowned. Beca watched Chloe's confused expression soften. "The cancer did that," she said point blank, easily, like she was giving the weekend weather forecast. And more importantly like she had said it so many times she was tired of it.

...What...wake up. Wake up. Wake up...fucking wake up...wake up...this usually works...

"Beca.." Chloe started in a strained voice.

The smaller woman barely shook her head, feeling like the movement wasn't part of her. It wasn't until she was unconsciously cracking her knuckles, feeling pain and hearing the sound did it hit her-this wasn't a nightmare. She wasn't still dreaming. Welcome to reality, where you don't have control.

"I'll be okay," Chloe shared after what was the worst pause in her thirty plus years of her life.

10 out of 10 for optimistic tone."What does okay mean?" Beca asked after she looked to the floor and thoughtsomeone should pick up this glass...

The step away from the taller woman as she glanced around the room for anything to pick up the glass was taken as an emotional step back from Chloe's perspective. The redhead remained silent, debating if she should be so forward with Beca. She was in mid-thought questioning if being honest was cruel when Beca was leaving today.

"Where do you keep your...ah..." Beca's tone was raising, annoyed and flustered..."your broom and dustpan?"Stupid words, stupid aphasia.

"Over in that closet," Chloe replied with confusion as she pointed to the door but stepped in the direction to get it herself.

"No, I'll do it. I can do it." Beca said, adamant so the woman shouldn't step anywhere near the glass, which she would clearly have to move around.

"Beca, I can do it."Chloe said solidly.

"Just let me do it." The shorter woman said as she turned away. "I got it. It's fine..its.."

"You can't fix this." Chloe said gently, seeing through the intent once Beca was facing her again, broom in hand, clenching it tightly her knuckles were turning pale then red.

"...diagnosis?" She asked hesitantly.

Chloe shrugged. "A year. A little more. A little less." She watched Beca swallow. The only sign she hadn't become a statue.

She paused. "How...how are you just standing here?" Beca replied in anger that was settling in that the shock was one step out the door.

"What do you mean?" Chloe replied with a curious head tilt.

"I'd be...I don't know! I'd travel. I'd go to freaking Reykjavik, Venice, ANYWHERE not here." She rubbed her face and rationalized the sting was from the dust, residue of sleep in the corners of her eyes. Not that Chloe had an expiration date.

"I like it here." Chloe replied easily.

"Okay...how long have you known?" Beca asked but immediately wanted to take it back because it wasn't her business.

"Three years. I was in remission for a while. It came back. I traveled. Now I like to get away sometimes." Chloe said honestly.

"Three years...Aubrey knew. She had to have known." Beca said with anger because if Aubrey knew then Jesse knew and that meant she could have known about this instead of being blind-sided.

"She does, but she swore on her childrens' lives she wouldn't tell Jesse." Chloe countered simply.

"You...you could have told me." Beca said with a frown.

"Sure. I thought of that. But what good would it do?" The redhead asked as she watched Beca sweep the glass up meticulously; like she was clinging to the act for sanity and something to focus on.

"I don't know!" She said bitterly, her voice rising. Annoyed that she didn't know how she would have reacted if Chloe texted or called out of the blue to tell her she was sick. In a second her energy drained because she felt powerless. She imagined she would have felt powerless if Chloe had hypothetically told her years ago as well. When she stood up, broom in one hand, dustbin in the other, she looked at Chloe who looked equally drained. Though there was more certainty in her eyes than what was likely in her own.

"You can hate me." Chloe opened the conversation.

"I don't hate you," the smaller woman stated as she turned and dumped the shards and ice cubs into the trash. All the translucent, broken bits looked the same. She heard Chloe take in a deep breath.

"Well..." she started gently." Now is your chance to say whatever you want." Beca turned back to see a slight smile that didn't reach Chloe's eyes.

"What the hell would be the point of that?" She asked after it sunk in that Chloe was giving her the go ahead to say anything. Robotically she placed the broom away and thought as she closed the doorsome skeletons are better left in a closet.

"Its not pointless Beca." Chloe said in an infuriating, knowing tone.

"What do you want me to say? That I have a love, mostly aversion relationship to any Sia music? How as much as I love Adele I can't listen to Hello without thinking of you but I want to listen to it, like it'll give me some sort of fucking catharsis? That I of course I wish you weren't sick? That life is clearly so fucking short and we wasted time and your whole platform of I deserve better because you chose your family and a long life with them over being with me is just fucking Irony with a capital I?" She closed her eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

"I did say you were right. We wasted time." Chloe repeated.

"I didn't want to be right! And its not like we can resume, restart and..." She replied as she pressed her fingertips against her temple as though she were trying to subdue the headache and suppress any hope from coming out.

"I know we can't." She stopped when Beca looked like she had been slapped by her absolute tone. "We can't," she said like it was set in stone.

"Why?" Beca challenged.

"And set you up to be miserable and witness it all? I'll pass." Chloe said with a frown, amazed Beca was implying she would.

"I would have married you...I asked." She mumbled with her eyes closed like she could shut it all out, like she would prefer to be in a nightmare than having this conversation.

"Yes, I was there. I'm glad we didn't. That you didn't get pulled and stuck in this." Chloe gulped, like she couldn't get enough air because sometimes honesty was that hard and she felt mean stating her stance in what felt like a callous way.

"You're glad because what-you spared me? Because as you said repeatedly I deserved better?"

"You did and do deserve better." Chloe said, unwavering and unflinching from Beca's raised tone. In all their years of knowing in each other Beca never overtly yelled at her, it was nice to see that was still consistent but it didn't change the fact to the situation she accepted she had about a year. She had played the diagnosis verbatim on a loop-we can't know for certain-roughly a year. And god how she had wanted to text Beca. And how she was the most drained she had felt prior to the experience, she had yet to experience, of chemo after she had to threaten Aubrey to not disclose anything.

"We'll never agree on that." She said solidly and for good measure asked, "Hm?" Beca wanted Chloe's opinion, even if it was questioned with narrowed eyes. She watched as Chloe gave the smallest shake of her head, like it hurt to admit they would never see eye to eye on this. And she was glad she could hear her phone ringing because it gave her the chance to escape.

Quickly she went up stairs, taking two at a time, escaping, leaving.

Chloe felt heavy and weightless. Burdened with closure. It was in Beca's best interest she push her away. Simple. Like it was simple to keep asking her things that would strip away love and hope. Like she didn't feel slightly monstrous. It wasn't her intent to hurt Beca. The opposite would be visible in time...hopefully. Chloe thought and more so hoped but was cut out from her thoughts as she heard Beca come down the stairs. She heard her hesitate and move around, creaking of doors and floor boards until she came back into the kitchen and said with finality, "the tow guy is here..." and waited for Chloe to stop her.

"Safe travels Beca." Her delivery was flat as she thoughtI loved you, it was impossible not to love you.

"Good luck Chloe." She finally said, at a loss for words and her tone expressed she had nothing left to give or offer. She looked at the woman again who was strong but dying, gorgeous but resigned, giving but selfish, and many, many wonderful, contradicting things that made her into a greatness she knew she wasn't going to understand as she walked out of the house.

When Chloe made it to her bed sometime later, not having bothered to keep track of time she found a note on her bed, neatly folded and waiting. She missed Beca's handwriting and letters, how she was old fashioned in ways and earnest. So earnest behind closed doors. She didn't realize it until she held the note and reread it and reread it and reread it...

When the heart beats too fast and the mind can't keep count
I want you to kiss me to bring me back down
because the act steadies me, makes me breathe deep
and then there are no sounds, no chaos abound
just You, Me, forming an Us.
That's how we were.

End Note: Beca says Chloe's name once in this fic while Chloe says it often and its because words, names hold power, more so when you give them a voice in my opinion. I have no doubt people will hate (strong word) this and I know people read fanfics for happy endings and escapism but its not my nature I guess. Thank you for reading.