#so yeah im able to receive a text from him without it triggering a panic attack

[cyb3r-pupp]

Have to go see my father again this morning I really really really don’t want to

[lets-talk-appella]

Don’t Touch Her

Bechloe Week Day Three - Drunk Texting

Summary: Getting drunk texts from Chloe is nothing new for Beca. However, when the messages become a little alarming, Beca races into action. Potentially triggering interaction in a bar, though very brief.

Word Count: 3.5 k

AO3 and FFN

Beca reclined on the fold out bed she shared with her best friend, casually scrolling through Instagram on her phone. She ‘liked’ a picture of Aubrey and Stacie together, as well as one of Emily celebrating the end of her semester. Her thumb hesitated over a picture of Jesse with his new dog, unsure whether they’d become good enough friends since their mutual breakup for her to ‘like’ his photos. After debating for a moment, she decided that the dog was cute and hit the button.

After another few minutes of mindless scrolling, Beca set down her phone with a sigh, locking the screen. She looked dejectedly around the small apartment she shared with Chloe and Amy, hoping something interesting would catch her eye. Nothing did.

She glanced hopefully to her right, wondering what Amy was doing, only to see the Australian sprawled out on her back, clearly fast asleep, her mouth hanging open. Beca sighed again. She liked a quiet night in every now and then, sure, but this was a little ridiculous.

It was kind of embarrassing, actually, how bored she was without Chloe there. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somehow, she’d started to rely on having Chloe around in the evenings to hang out with. The apartment without her in it seemed smaller and dingier.

Beca missed her best friend more than she cared to admit. Chloe not being with her felt wrong.

She knew she was being dramatic. Chloe had only gone out bar hopping for the evening, so it wasn’t like she was on some major trip across the country. Beca was only put out about it because it had been a spontaneous decision of Chloe’s to “re-live her crazy glory days” and Beca hadn’t been able to make plans of her own.

Chloe had invited her along, of course, but Beca had declined. It was a Thursday night, and she had to work the next day. Besides, she found bars less appealing after her last experience, which had involved far too much tequila and far too little time to make it to a toilet before she’d hurled her guts out on the middle of a dance floor. So, Chloe had gone out alone.

Beca was broken from the unpleasant, tequila-filled memory by a short buzz from her phone. She snatched it up immediately, smiling when she saw a text notification from Chloe. She unlocked her phone, already guessing what the message would be.

Heeyyy Becs another move, at the plus now love you lots be good

Beca rolled her eyes affectionately. Chloe always told her when she was changing bars so that Beca knew where she was. She’d already gotten three similar texts and figured this would be the last one; The Plus was Chloe’s favorite bar and was only three blocks away from their apartment, so she’d probably head home after she finished there. Beca pushed on the text and typed her response.

Thanks dude, be safe.

Chloe replied a few seconds later, always quick to respond to Beca.

youre so nice beca alwyas you care abt me

Beca stifled her laugh. She could tell that Chloe, typically good with grammar and spelling, must be more than slightly tipsy. She typed out a reply.

Of course I care. Almost done?

Chloe got back to her nearly instantly.

Almost i'm pretty gone had 3 shots and 2 mojito already

Beca frowned slightly. Chloe could handle her alcohol, but that was kind of a lot even for her. Bars tend to make their mixed drinks strong, so the mojitos were especially concerning. Still frowning, Beca sent a quick response.

Maybe it’s time to slow down?

She had to wait a little longer for Chloe’s reply, the unusual delay making her wonder if she’d offended Chloe with her suggestion. But then, her phone buzzed in her hand once, twice, three times, until she had a string of messages from Chloe.

bec theres a really nice guy

hes bying shots for evryn

no just me

this guy is buying drinks

hes so nice

I like shots

Beca read through the messages quickly, her worry increasing with each one. Chloe was entering scary drunk territory, and some random guy was encouraging it. Beca closed her eyes, berating herself for not going out with Chloe. It had been dumb to let her go to drink alone. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Chloe; she didn’t trust this mystery guy.

She opened her eyes, needing to respond to Chloe to gauge how drunk she really was. Though, even as Beca frantically typed into her phone, she already had a good idea of where Chloe was at based on the look of her messages.

Chlo, drink some water for a bit. What’s this guy’s name?

She hit send, only to receive even more messages from her best friend.

he ask about you

well asked why im alone

told him my beca is at home

he got me another drink

Beca jumped off the bed, her heart racing. She didn’t like the questions this guy was apparently asking. It had gone on long enough. Chloe needed to come home.

She paced around the apartment, half wanting to wake Amy to ask what she thought. With slightly shaking fingers, she typed out a message to Chloe.

Come home, please. I’m worried.

As soon as it sent, another text from Chloe appeared. Beca groaned; she knew Chloe hadn’t read her last message. She devoured the texts from Chloe as they appeared.

im tired

feel fnny

he keeeps tuching me

he want my phone

Beca’s blood turned to ice. The air rushed from her lungs as if she’d been punched in the stomach. No. What had that guy done? Put something in one of Chloe’s many drinks?

Even before her brain had time to fully register the wave of panic rising in her throat, Beca spun to the front door, nearly tripping over a pair of Chloe’s boots on the floor as she grabbed a jacket and her keys. She shoved her feet into her shoes, only bothering to tie them because she knew she’d be running. She flew out of the apartment, the door slamming behind her (sorry Amy), pounding her thumb onto the call icon next to Chloe’s name in her phone. She launched herself down the stairs of their apartment building at breakneck speed as the ringtone sounded in her hear.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she chanted as she ran. The phone rang and rang until her call was sent abruptly to voicemail. She slipped at the sound of Chloe’s recorded request to leave a message and tumbled down the last few stairs, sliding to land painfully on her butt. With barely a thought to her own injuries, she forced herself up impatiently and pressed the call icon again, plowing through the exit door to arrive on the street.

She turned in the direction of The Plus bar and started running, drawing more than a few stares from passersby. She knew she might be overreacting, but Chloe was her best friend. Chloe was the most important person in her life.

Chloe wasn’t answering her phone. Beca swore and tried again, not intending to give up anytime soon. She was panting, feet pounding against the pavement, choking on her breath and on her fear. Absurdly, she felt like she was in one of the many action movies Jesse had talked her into watching while they’d dated.

Chloe still didn’t answer her phone.

But it didn’t matter because Beca could see the sign for the bar. She stopped trying to call Chloe and instead snatched her ID from its pocket on her phone case, sprinting up to the bouncer at the door and thrusting the ID into his hands.

“Woah, there, in a hurry?” the bouncer asked, shining his light on her ID before reaching to hand it back.

“What does it look like?” she snapped, ripping her card from his outstretched hand and shoving past him into the bar.

It was fairly crowded inside for a Thursday, sweaty bodies writhing around, most holding some sort of liquid in the bar’s plastic cups. Despite the number of people present, Beca’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the red hair she spotted at the bar, knowing in her heart that it was Chloe. She had always been able to find Chloe in a crowd, as if some invisible thread existed between them, pulling them together.

She made a beeline toward Chloe, eyes on the guy standing much too close to her. Beca shoved through the crowd, most of them parting automatically when they saw her to seek cover from her rage. When she got closer, she could see the large number of empty glasses in front of Chloe. She also saw the guy’s hand on Chloe’s back. He had her phone, too, moved away from her and set facedown next to his own drink farther along the bar.

Beca’s stomach tightened, her blood boiling. That’s why Chloe hadn’t been answering: she couldn’t.

She was on them in an instant. She grabbed his wrist and flung his hand away from Chloe, barreling in between them and forcing him back several steps. She only took a moment to glance at Chloe, all wide and confused blue eyes, before she turned on the guy who’d been way too close to her best friend.

“Get away from her!” Beca yelled right in his stupid, surprised face. He was older than them, and bigger, with dark hair and small eyes.

“Bec?” Chloe’s voice, slurred and confused, almost made her turn around, but she knew she couldn’t let the man out of her sight.

He sneered at her, leaning in to say in a nasally voice, “Go fuck yourself, we were having a good time.”

Beca snarled at him and snatched Chloe’s phone from the bar, shoving it into a pocket, her own phone in her other. “That involved making sure she couldn’t call for help?”

She felt familiar hands rest on her back, clutching at her jacket. Beca reached back her right hand without taking her eyes from the man, calming slightly when Chloe’s fingers laced with hers.

“Listen, bitch,” the man said, “Ginger here is going to come with me, and you’re going to leave and forget you saw anything.”

Beca’s mouth filled with bile and her fingers tightened on Chloe’s. He wouldn’t take her. Not over her dead body.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she spit back. “She and I leave together.” She raised her voice so that Chloe could hear her and said, “Chloe, we’re going home.”

Chloe clung tighter to her, mumbling inaudibly and Beca felt her stand unsteadily from her stool.

“I don’t think so,” the man growled. He reached around Beca, trying to grab Chloe again.

Beca saw red.

“Don’t touch her!” she shouted, swinging her left hand up in a fist. Her punch connected solidly with the side of his face, jerking his head back and making him stumble away from them. Chloe screamed, drawing the attention of everyone around them.

Chaos erupted in Beca’s mind, her only goal to get Chloe out safely. Chloe’s hand was still in hers so she whipped around to support Chloe, leading her rapidly to the exit. She heard the man calling obscenities after them, but he didn’t follow. Beca risked a glance over her shoulder to see that several other guys, including the bartender, were holding him back, preventing him from getting to them.

Beca fought a path through the crowd, never losing contact with Chloe. She stumbled once, her foot having caught on someone else’s, but Chloe supported her surprisingly well and they made their way to the exit. For a moment, she thought she was going to have to punch the bouncer, too, to get through; he stood, blocking her way, only to move aside at the last second to let them pass. Once they made it out of the bar, he moved back in place and she understood – he was making sure they weren’t followed.

She fully intended to race home but was dragged to a halt after only a couple of feet by the hand holding hers. Shocked, she turned, wondering if Chloe had forgotten something. But Chloe released her hand to teeter alarmingly to the side of the building, leaned forward, and was sick against it. Beca was there instantly, holding her hair back, grimly relieved. If that creep had put anything in her drink, it was gone now.

She waited for Chloe to finish, finally registering the throbbing in her left hand. She internally berated herself for not punching the man somewhere softer, but it had still done the trick. It had gotten him away from her best friend. Fury rose in Beca, and she was tempted to run back inside the bar to hit the man again, as many times as possible.

However, reason kicked in and she forgot her rage when Chloe, wiping her mouth, straightened up to look at her. She was shaking, whether from adrenaline or from being sick Beca wasn’t sure. Without hesitation, Beca slipped off her jacket and put it around Chloe, trying to comfort her.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s over,” Beca soothed, her hands sliding up and down Chloe’s arms bracingly.

Chloe blinked at her, attempting to clear some of the alcohol haze from her mind. “You found me,” she said, looking at Beca like she’d put the stars in the sky.

“Of course,” Beca replied softly. “I’ll always find you. I’ll always be there.”

Chloe nodded jerkily. Beca hated how pale she looked, how shaky she still felt under her touch. Her anger spiked again, but this time at herself for not accompanying Chloe and for not checking on her immediately after leaving the bar.

“Thanks, Bec,” mumbled Chloe. “’M really drunk.”

Beca couldn’t stop the small, crooked smile that formed at Chloe’s words. “I know,” she said. “That’s okay. I’m here. Let’s go home?”

Chloe nodded and Beca turned away, only to feel Chloe’s hand land on her arm and pull. She knew what Chloe wanted and opened her arms, enveloping Chloe in a hug. She smelled like alcohol and sweat, but Beca squeezed her tight, thankful that the bar was in running distance from their apartment. She didn’t know what she’d have done if she’d lost Chloe.

The hug went on for a while, until Chloe was the first to move away. She looked better, more herself, and Beca knew it was time to go. The man had to come out of the bar eventually.

“Come on,” she said gently, pulling on Chloe’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Chloe smiled down happily at their entwined hands, making butterflies burst in Beca’s stomach. They walked like that all the way to their apartment, Beca making sure Chloe didn’t trip over anything on the way.

Chloe handled the stairs surprisingly well, only stumbling once. Beca’s tailbone ached at the memory of her own tumble, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she’d gotten to Chloe.

The door flew open the instant they reached the landing, Amy’s wide eyes greeting them.

“Thank God!” she exclaimed. “I was worried! And I’ve already opened the door like that for two other people, because I thought they were you coming up the steps. Aca-awkward.”

Chloe laughed weakly and Beca’s heart relaxed at the sound. She was going to be okay.  

Moving into the apartment and locking the door behind them, Beca explained, “Yeah, there was a little emergency. We’re okay now, though.”

“Mmm, Beca punched a creeper,” Chloe slurred, still far from sober but looking better with every passing minute.

Amy raised her eyebrows and nodded once. “Good on you, I hate a dumb creeper.”

“They’re the worst!” Chloe exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. “But Beca saved me. I love Beca,” she sighed, making Beca’s stomach somersault.

Amy looked at Beca delightedly and opened her mouth, clearly about to make a comment.

“Don’t,” Beca cut her off. “She’s drunk.”

“Oookayyy,” Amy drew out, wiggling her eyebrows excessively.

Beca rolled her eyes and nudged Chloe to the kitchen. “Water, bathroom, then to bed with you, drunko,” she instructed, giving Chloe a little push toward the fridge.

“Okay, okay,” Chloe huffed, blinking a lot. “You know, Beca, if you’d just come out with me in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Beca winced at the truth in the statement, internally vowing to never let it happen again. Then, she frowned.

“Wait, was this just a ploy to get me to go to bars with you in the future?”

Chloe only giggled as she attempted to pour water into a glass, nearly spilling it everywhere. Beca immediately moved to help her, taking the pitcher from her hands. From behind, she heard Amy make a whip cracking noise and rolled her eyes.

Chloe drank deeply from her water, finishing it before she set it down with a wink at Beca.

“I’m gonna shower, you wanna join?” she asked, swaying slightly.

Ignoring the heat that rose to her face, Beca firmly said, “No, and you are not going to shower. You’d slip and fall and die. You’re going to brush your teeth then go to bed, yeah?”

Chloe jutted out her lower lip into a pout but nodded and made her way to the bathroom, drawing the shower curtain closed behind her.

Beca plopped down at the kitchen table with a groan and covered her eyes. It had been a long night. She heard Amy walk to the fridge and open the freezer, rummaging around before closing it. A chair was pulled out from beside Beca, and she looked up to see Amy settle down in it, offering her a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel.

“For your hand,” Amy said in response to Beca’s questioning look. “If I know you, it was a left hook to that asshole’s face.”

Beca took the peas with a tight smile and pressed it against her hand, soothing the ache instantly.

“And if I know Chloe, I’ll bet that tonight was a lot scarier than she’s making it out to be,” Amy continued quietly, unusually serious.

Beca nodded and sighed. “Yeah, I was freaking out. It was bad. He kept touching her and he’d taken her phone.”

Amy frowned at that, tapping her fingers on the table. “I’m surprised she didn’t punch him herself. She must have been completely smashed.”

Beca’s lips tightened, her voice strained as she replied, “She was. If I hadn’t gone over…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Nausea rolled her stomach and she had to close her eyes until it passed.

“Hey,” Amy’s hand on her arm brought her back to the present and she reopened her eyes. “Don’t think about that. You went, you saw, you punched, and now you’re both safe. That’s what matters.”

With a deep breath, Beca nodded. Amy was right. They were okay.

“So…” Amy added after a moment in an even quieter tone, not looking at Beca. “When are you going to tell her?”

Beca blanched, guessing what Amy meant but not wanting to address it. “Tell her what?”

Amy merely smiled and said, “You know what.”

Beca stared at her, trying to keep her expression neutral. She knew by the widening of Amy’s smile that her poker face was failing. Thankfully, she was saved from responding further by Chloe’s emergence from the bathroom.

“All ready for bed!” Chloe said excitedly, moving toward the fold out. Beca jumped up from the table like she’d been electrocuted, dropping the peas and launching herself into the bathroom to complete her own nightly routine. She couldn’t handle any more serious talks with Amy.

By the time she’d finished, Amy was in her own bed, already asleep, and Chloe was curled up in their shared bed. Beca’s bedside lamp had been left on for her. Tenderness erupting in her chest at the sight, Beca quickly changed into her oversized sleep shirt and a pair of shorts and slipped under the covers next to her best friend, flicking off the light and plunging them into darkness.

As soon as she was settled, Chloe wiggled backward against her until Beca turned to hold her from behind, her arm drawing Chloe into her protectively.

“’Night, Bec,” Chloe mumbled sleepily.

“’Night, Chlo,” she replied softly, resisting the urge to press a kiss to Chloe’s shoulder.

Chloe was asleep within seconds, her breathing steady and even. Beca lay in the darkness, her eyes open and her mind racing. She’d been absolutely terrified earlier, afraid she was going to lose Chloe. She couldn’t get the image of the man’s hand on Chloe’s back out of her mind. Beca’s heart clenched; she knew Amy was right. She was in love with Chloe.

She’d have to tell her soon.

Beca’s heart pounded with nerves and her mind whirled.

She wouldn’t be sleeping much overnight.