Hey guys! New story on the works here. Be warned, it will be angsty and will deal with mature themes.

Thanks as always to Wonderstruckkk, my amazing Beta.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Pitch Perfect franchise.

Chloe was running late.

It was raining outside, and she was running late.

She had a hangover, it was raining outside, and she was running late.

Talk about a good start to her day.

"Morning sunshine."

The bright voice gave her a startle as she tried to put her sock on properly, bouncing on one foot across the parquet floor. She looked at the voice's owner; her best friend, Tom.

"Ah, not so shining."

He laughed as her look turned to a glare in result of his comment.

"I am so late," Chloe grumbled, hastily walking to the kitchen to find herself a glass. Tom set his cup down onto the counter and grabbed her upper arms gently, guiding her to sit down in front of a tall glass of water, some aspirin and her travel cup presumably filled to the rim with fresh coffee.

Chloe looked up at him with the brightest smile she could currently manage with her splitting headache.

"Have I told you lately that you are my favorite best friend?"

Tom huffed and pulled a chair back to sit down across from her.

"Wouldn't hurt to hear it more often. How's the head?"

"Killing me."

Chloe popped the pills into her mouth and downed the glass of water a second later.

"Thanks. I have to go."

She grabbed her travel cup, thankful for not having to stop by the coffee shop with how late she was running, and bent down to press a quick kiss in Tom's hair.

"See you later weirdo," she called affectionately on her way out of their kitchen.

"Later, bestie!"

Rainy days usually meant busy days at the New York Presbyterian Hospital. Chloe reached it with ten minutes to spare before the beginning of her shift, mind assaulted by the chaos going on in the Emergency Hall the second she stepped through the sliding doors.

She came to a screeching halt to avoid being run over by a rushing gurney, and almost got vomit on her favorite shoes, over the span of just two minutes.

These first two minutes before every shift usually gave her a good idea of how her day would turn out.

Chloe pushed the staff room door open and dropped her bag onto the bench separating the two rows of lockers. She opened hers and grabbed a hanger, draping her soaked rain jacket over it. Hopefully it would dry by the night, or at least, stop raining by the time she was finished.

"How's the head?"

Chloe groaned and turned around to face none other than her friend, Stacie.

"I wish people would stop asking me that," she grumbled in annoyance, wordlessly reprimanding Stacie with a glare.

Turning back to her locker, she grabbed an extra set of dark green scrubs and pulled it over her long-sleeve top.

"So, did you end up at his place or yours?"

"Duh, his," Stacie answered as if it was the obvious option. "You know I never bring anyone back to mine. What if they're clingy and end up never leaving?"

Chloe stifled a laugh as she pulled her hair out from underneath her scrubs' collar and lifted it into a sloppily-done bun.

"Are you ever going to settle down, Stace?"

"Dunno," the leggy brunette shrugged, blowing a bubble with her gum. "Besides, you're one to talk, Ms. Workaholic."

Chloe sighed and sat down on the bench to slide her feet into her sneakers; there was no way she was going to make it through her shift otherwise.

"I'll work less when I find someone worthy enough of my time."

"Oooh, feisty," Stacie commented, wiggling her eyebrows with a smirk. "I really don't think that's the way you should do it. Work less first to go out more and expand your chances of actually meeting someone."

"Did that yesterday." Chloe stated as a matter of fact, tightening her laces before standing up.

"For the first time in like, three months," Stacie pointed out, and Chloe couldn't contradict her.

Chloe's social life had been put on hold since she became an attending. Her work was her life, so most of her friends were colleagues from the hospital. She and Stacie knew each other the longest, having attended the same university and been friends essentially since Freshman year.

"Or…"

Chloe narrowed her eyes in anticipation. Stacie usually came up with the craziest ideas.

"You could meet someone at the hospital."

"No." Chloe cut her off insistently, pointing a menacing finger her way. "You know how I feel about interwork relationships."

"That's not what I meant," Stacie amended, agitated by the redhead's response.

Chloe reached into her locker for her pager, stethoscope and notepad, which she respectively hooked to the inside of her scrubs, slang around her neck and slipped in the front pocket of her lab coat.

"I was more thinking along the lines of a cute patient. Or a firefighter," Stacie gasped at her own brilliant idea, eyes suddenly twinkling. "There are some pretty hot ones."

"You just got laid a few hours ago and I can still feel your hormones all the way over here," Chloe commented with a laugh, hand waving between she and Stacie. "You're insatiable."

She slammed her locker closed and started towards the door, followed by her friend.

"And I'm sorry, but I don't think me meeting a cute patient is going to happen."

"You never know, Chlo," Stacie said with a shrug. "Love happens in the most unexpected places."

Chloe pulled a face and mimicked a gagging gesture, drawing a laugh from the other attending. Her features grew more serious the minute she stepped in front of the board, eyes flitting over the surface until they caught her name and the nature of the case.

Arm injury.

She grabbed the corresponding chart and documents and walked to Exam room 15.

"Hi there!" she greeted happily to the mother and her son. "My name is Dr. Beale. What seems to have happened?"

"I fell off the monkey bars and my arm hurts," the little boy, aged six, according to the chart held in her hands, explained sweetly.

"Ouch," Chloe grimaced, rolling her stool in front of the boy. Upon closer examination and a bit of gentle prodding, a dip in his forearm, indeed, indicated a fracture. "Alrighty, I'll order an X-ray to make sure, but I'm almost positive that it's broken."

She stood up and smiled gently once she realized the frightened look that passed over the boy's face.

"No need to worry though, buddy. I'm the best doctor there is in this hospital, and you'll get to have an awesome cast! You can even choose the color!"

The boy's eyes lit up at that, and it reminded Chloe just how much she loved her job.

"I can?!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Of course!" she dotted a few words onto the chart and looked to his mother, who still hadn't said anything since she'd entered the room. "I ordered the X-Ray, hopefully it won't be too long."

"Thank you," the woman said politely, returning Chloe's smile.

Chloe felt her hangover lessen as the day ticked by. It wasn't as busy as she thought it would be, but still busy enough for her shift to fly by.

As darkness steadily fell upon the New York City skyline, Chloe fought a yawn and reached for her next patient's chart. She looked down at the information and purpose of the visit.

Chest pains.

Chloe pushed the door to the exam room open, taking in the person sat on the bed a couple feet from her. The girl couldn't be much younger than Chloe. She was dressed in dark jeans, an oversized sweatshirt and a faded red New York Yankee cap was screwed on her head, hiding the woman's features in its shadow.

A dog lay at her feet, some sort of border collie mix, but Chloe couldn't tell for sure. She didn't even know that dogs were allowed in the ER, but as long as the animal behaved, she didn't really mind.

"Hello," Chloe started cautiously, tilting her head to the side. She didn't get a verbal response, and stepped closer.

She dealt with drug addiction cases on a near daily basis and could spot them out after mere seconds. She looked down at her chart and spotted the name of the patient, but figured it was a fake one and chose no to use it.

"My name is Dr. Beale. What seems to be the problem?" she asked, not bothering with friendly chatter.

If this woman wanted to act detached, she could be cold, too.

"I got chest pains," the woman explained curtly, jerking her chin to Chloe's chart. "Suppose it says so on here."

"Okay," Chloe drawled out, setting said chart on to the bed. She took out her lamp from the front pocket of her coat and switched it on. "Could you take off your cap, please?"

The brunette mumbled something Chloe couldn't make out, but eventually conceded and took it off. Chloe felt her own breathing itch in her throat when the woman's eyes met hers.

Their color couldn't be clearly defined. They were a shade of grey, with specks of dark blue surrounding the pupils. Said pupils were barely dots in the ocean of grey. The white that surrounded her irises were bloodshot, and dark circles tinted the skin underneath her eyes.

What took Chloe aback, however, was the sadness and apathy somehow blended together in those orbs. It sent a jolt of pain to Chloe's chest.

She snapped out of her daze and shone the light into the woman's eyes.

"Can you take your sweater off? I need to listen to your heartbeat."

The petite woman hesitated, but eventually nodded, sliding her arms through the sleeves and pulling her sweater over her head. The second it came off, Chloe's eyes shot down to catch the track marks marring the girl's skin.

The patient wrapped her arms around herself and Chloe realized how skinny she was now that she only wore a tank top.

It was mid-october and the temperatures had considerably dropped, yet a thin layer of sweat made her skin glow, confirming what Chloe suspected the moment she entered the room; the girl was in withdrawal. From what drug, Chloe didn't know, but she continued her exam to find out, listening to the woman's faint heartbeat, and taking her BP and other vitals.

"I don't think there's anything physically wrong with you," she concluded, eyes flitting to the clock over the door. "I can order a chest x-ray if you'd like, but there will be a few hours wait."

The girl sighed, behavior turning agitated. She had pulled her sweatshirt back on the second Chloe was done and was now shivering.

"I-I just need something for the pain," she stammered, using her sleeve to wipe off her runny nose.

"What are you on?" Chloe eventually asked, tired of beating around the bush and feeling like this was all a waste of time. She'd rather cut to the chase. "Cocaine? LSD? My guess is heroin."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the girl muttered, hands running up and down her jean-clad-thighs, eyes focusing on anywhere but Chloe's. "I just need something for the pain. Like-like morphine."

Chloe looked at her incredulously. She would be more understanding if her patient showed some will to quit. Judging from her denial, Chloe knew she was just here to get her fix, probably from lack of resources to get anything on the streets.

"Did you think this was a drug supermarket? I can't give out morphine to everyone that stops by! Especially since you seem fine, except for the fact that you are in withdrawal!"

The woman recoiled at that, and grabbed her cap, shoving it roughly onto her head.

"I don't even know why I came here. You call yourself a doctor, but you can't even give me medicine."

Chloe gritted her teeth, stung by the accusation. When she became a doctor, she took an oath with herself to always help people at the extent of her capabilities.

Chloe grabbed the patient's arm gently to stop her from leaving.

"The only thing I can do is prescribe you some buprenorphine to relieve the cramps and sweating, and give you an address for a rehab center."

The brunette scoffed, wrenching her arm from Chloe's hold and Chloe felt her patience vanish into thin air.

"Buprenorphine? What kind of joke is this?"

The headache Chloe had managed to suppress from her hangover was now back full force, unpleasantly pressing on her front lob.

"Take it or leave it. I'm not giving you any morphine."

Chloe observed the girl cautiously while she debated it over in her head.

"Fine," the woman spat out begrudgingly. "Can I have some buprenorphine?"

Chloe nodded shortly.

"Stay here. I'll be back."

Chloe left her to get to the ER pharmacy and retrieve what she needed.

When she got back into the exam room, she found the girl doubled over in pain and clenching her stomach. Chloe's eyebrows furrowed as she closed the distance between herself and the bed, laying a gentle hand over the girl's back in wordless comfort.

"Just breathe through it," she instructed, hand moving in soothing circles. "Inhale through your nose deeply, exhales through your mouth slowly."

To Chloe's surprise, she did as she was told and eventually straightened. Chloe moved to grab a glass and poured some water in it. She handed it, along with a pill, to her patient.

"Thanks."

Chloe nodded, slightly taken aback. Her eyes softened as she yet again witnessed the pain etched in the girl's features. She reached in her pocket and handed her a leaflet.

"This is a really good rehab center uptown," she stated gently. "It is possible to get better, when surrounded by capable professionals. I know the person who runs the center. There are few spots opening up, but if you really want to give it a shot, I can help you get in."

The brunette looked at the leaflet clenched in Chloe's hand, then back at Chloe, expression unreadable and lacking from any emotion.

"I don't need help."

Chloe expected that answer, but that fact didn't prevent anger from pouring into her veins.

"Alright, then. The next time you come here, don't expect any help."

The girl glared at her, the muscle in her jaw snapping.

"Fine."

She untied her dog's leash from its knot on the bed rail and patted his head.

"Come on, boy."

The dog happily followed its owner, stopping too when she did by the door, and turning around to face Chloe.

"I can see the judgement in your eyes, Dr. Beale. I've seen it many times before." She spoke in a soft tone, bitterness nowhere to be heard. "But in the wise words of Atticus Finch: 'You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view. Until you climb in his skin and walk around in it.'"

Chloe felt her mouth gape open, gaze unable to leave the door long after it was shut.

Eventually her eyes flickered to the window.

It was still raining.