Pitch Perfect Fic: Her Eyes Are A River Of Tears (Beca/Chloe)
Title: Her Eyes Are A River Of Tears
Author: cellochick92
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Summary: Kind of angsty Beca/Chloe comfort fic. Sometimes what you shy away from is what you need the most.
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When she started at Barden, Beca had absolutely no intentions of letting anyone get close to her. She was confident that she could get in and out without forming any meaningful connections, and then she could be on her merry way to L.A. to do what she loved. There was a tiny voice at the back of her head that begged for some sort of relationship beyond a casual acquaintance, but Beca stoically drowned it with heavy bass lines and soaring trebles.
She had made it this far on her own, and she would be damned if she started relying on other people now.
***
The activities fair was a fluke. That was all there was to it.
Beca didn't care that her pulse had beat just a little bit faster at the sight of shining red hair and sparling blue eyes- it was a one time deal, and that was all, until- oh god the girl was in the shower with her, and there was no clothing, and Beca hadn't even realized that she had been singing Titanium in the first place. The girl was talking, but Beca didn't really hear much beyond when the redhead said her name was Chloe.
There was too much skin, and she couldn't focus damn it, especially not after Chloe waggled her eyebrows suggestively and laughed about how this song was her lady jam, if Beca knew what she meant. Beca started singing in part just hoping that Chloe would disappear, but then the other girl joined in and Beca felt like she'd had the wind knocked out of her at how amazing they sounded together.
It was a rush like she normally only got when she got a mix to fit just so, when everything lined up perfectly and just clicked. When she breathlessly finished the line, Chloe just grinned at her for a moment, and Beca could have sworn that blue eyes flicked down over her (embarrassingly half-covered) body for a split second before the redhead started spouting off about how she should join the Bellas.
Everything else was basically a blur, and Beca wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry when the redhead waltzed off with some random guy. The girl was clearly crazy, but Beca couldn't help the small smile that threatened to twitch at the corners of her lips as she thought again about shining blue eyes meeting her own.
***
So.
She had joined the Bellas.
Whatever.
Not like it meant anything anyways.
Except maybe that was a tiny lie, because Chloe was in the Bellas, and rehearsal meant that Beca spent an inordinate amount of time with the older girl. When Beca had walked into the rehearsal space for the first time, Chloe had winked at her and said, "Now don't go singing any more of my lady jams or I might not be able to contain myself!"
Beca had thought she might combust. She was sure that she was blushing, and she had awkwardly coughed and scratched the back of her neck before looking away and sloughing over to a seat. Over the next several practices, Beca had watched with fascination how Chloe seemed to move through life. The redhead seemed so confident, so sure of herself, and her life was full of little touches, here and there, that were nearly bursting with sincerity.
Beca found herself wishing she knew how to be like that- not necessarily just like Chloe, because perky was not a word that would ever be able to describe Beca Mitchell, but sure of herself and comfortable in her own skin. That was something that Beca would never admit aloud, but there it was- she was completely ill at ease with herself.
Beca had grown up in a household where touching of any sort was infrequent. In fact, that was probably being a little too generous.
She never really had any sort of physical contact growing up, not a hug or a pat on the back or a kiss on the cheek- nothing.
Beca could clearly remember being five years old and so desperately wanting her parents to care enough about her to hug her, or do anything really, and so she would pretend to fall asleep on the couch. If she pretended extra hard, then her father would give up on trying to shake her awake, and he would lift her and carry her to bed.
Those few fleeting moments in her father's arms felt like flying, and Beca always wished for him to never put her down. She tried to memorize the feel of his arms around her, carrying her and keeping her safe, but she could never quite replicate the exact experience in her mind.
Her ploy eventually wore out, and by the time she was seven the charade was up. If she tried pretending to be asleep, either her parents got angry and yelled at her, or even worse they didn't care enough to try, and she would fall asleep waiting for them to notice her on the couch, waking up shivering the next morning with only a sore neck to show for her troubles.
After that, Beca had sought physical affection from any source that seemed likely to provide it. When she was thirteen, she discovered that, if she tried hard enough to look nice, there were plenty of people in the world who were more than willing to initiate physical contact with her. It never felt safe like she remembered her father's arms being, but she hoped that maybe if she tried hard enough eventually she would find someone able to give her that same sense of comfort.
When she was fourteen, though, Beca discovered for the first time that touch could hurt, that it could burn and twist and bite, and the knowledge almost broke her in half. She couldn't stand the thought of anyone else hurting her, and the potential safety and comfort that she so craved wasn't worth the risk any more. Beca closed herself off, training herself to flinch away from any overtures towards physical contact, and she perfected a glare that could get almost anyone to back off.
She went into survival mode, never once letting herself think that maybe what she really wanted (needed?) was someone to just hold her and keep her safe. It was too dangerous to open herself up and be vulnerable like that, and so teenage Beca swung to the exact opposite of her younger self, refusing any and all physical contact and affection.
Beca was able to lose herself in music, and it might have been a sad substitute, but it was all she had. If she closed her eyes, she could lose herself in a pounding bass line that felt almost like a physical caress and pretend that it was all she needed. She shoved any thoughts of it being pathetic out of her mind. Soaring trebles and thumping bass were the closest she could get to happiness, and Beca would take whatever she could get at that point. There was no fear of music hurting her, and so she latched onto it and it kept her barely afloat.
She was jaded and more than a little world-weary by the time she arrived at Barden, but Beca told herself that she was doing what she needed to in order to stay safe and keep from being hurt again. She could deal with the loneliness and exhausting vigilance- what she couldn't deal with was being hurt again.
But now, seeing Chloe….it made Beca wonder if there was a middle ground. The redhead was subtle about certain things, but she was clearly in control of the interactions she had with other people. Whether it was her initiating the touches or moving in a certain way that subconsciously dissuaded any attempts at physical contact, Chloe was the one who dictated who, when, and where she was touched.
That level of control sparked a longing in Beca. If she could be more like Chloe, then maybe…..maybe she wouldn't have to be so lonely all of the time.
No.
Beca angrily stamped down on that idea. She had been doing just fine before meeting Chloe, and she would continue to do just fine without changing anything. The redhead could be bubbly and cheerful and touchy-feely, but Beca wasn't interested in any of that shit. She railed at herself inside her head, angry reminders that she was only here temporarily, that she was going to get in and get out.
Slowly but surely, though, Beca found that Chloe was managing to slip in through the cracks in her armour. Beca couldn't bring herself to do anything but lean into the gentle touches the redhead occasionally initiated, and she gradually found herself looking forward to those brief moments.
Chloe was the exception to all of her rules, and Beca slowly grew accustomed to bending the rules for the older girl. There was just something about her…..Beca couldn't quite put her finger on it- wasn't sure she even wanted to- but it was there, and it seemed to be enough of a reason for Beca's body to betray her mind and star seeking out Chloe's affection.
By the time winter break rolled around, Beca had acknowledged that she might be fighting a losing battle if she wanted to keep Chloe out of her life, and the redhead seemed to have made it her personal mission to be by Beca's side at all times. Jesse consistently made snide comments about them, but Beca couldn't even bring herself to care. Chloe gave her something that nobody else seemed able to, and that was that.
***
The night of the Bella's end-of-semester party, Beca told herself that she wouldn't get drunk. Five cups of rum and coke later, and she was feeling light and airy, like nothing could touch her. She went into the kitchen of the house to look for Chloe, and didn't pay much attention as a guy came in behind her. Aubrey and Chloe had a nice place, and she smiled as she noticed the little decorating touches that were obviously from one girl or the other.
Not seeing Chloe anywhere, Beca turned to leave and found her way blocked by the guy, who was leaning casually against the counter and watching her.
"Hey cutie," he grinned. "Want to have some fun?"
Beca flinched internally, feeling a tendril of fear start working its way into her stomach, but outwardly she shook her head and smirked. "Nah, not really my type."
She made a show of going to push past him, but he grabbed her arm and before she could do anything else his tongue was pushing into her mouth. Beca froze, eyes squeezing shut as memories of how situations like this usually ended flooded her mind, and a whimper of fear slipped out of her throat.
Chloe wandered into the kitchen, wondering where Beca had gone, and as soon as she stepped over the threshold she felt her mind go blank at the scene in front of her. Some asshole was grasping Beca by her shoulders, holding her in place as he rammed his tongue down her throat. Beca seemed to be in shock, her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her hands clenched into fists at her side.
Chloe didn't know how she made it across the kitchen so fast, but the next thing she knew she was shoving the guy away from Beca and pulling the smaller girl into her chest as she yelled at the guy to get away from her.
Beca was shaking, body still tense like she might bolt at any second, and Chloe quickly led her back to her bedroom. She pulled Beca to sit on the bed, looking worriedly at the brunette as she refused to make eye contact. Biting her lip and weighing her options, Chloe carefully reached out and gently cupper Beca's cheek in her palm, sighing inwardly with relief when Beca didn't flinch away.
Slowly, she coaxed the younger girl to look up and meet her eyes, and felt like crying when she saw the fear that still lingered in Beca's gaze.
"Shhh, sweetie, it's okay, it's just me," Chloe murmured, moving her other hand so that her fingers were laced with Beca's.
Beca blinked slowly as her eyes focused on Chloe's face, and all she could think was Chloe had saved her. Not caring about anything other than the safety Chloe could provide, Beca launched herself at the redhead, clinging to her tightly as tears started to flow down her cheeks.
Chloe felt wet tears hitting her collarbone and silently wished she could kill everyone who had ever hurt Beca, because she knew from personal experience that there was something that had to have happened before this, some hurt that had been brought back up by the asshole in the kitchen.
Chloe scooted back on her bed, tugging Beca with her until they were resting against the pillows. She wrapped her arms loosely around the brunette, not wanting to spook her, but Beca immediately molded herself to Chloe's body. Beca curled into Chloe's side, strangled sobs rising up in her and escaping from her mouth against her will. She never wanted to leave Chloe's embrace; it was the safest she'd felt in probably her entire life, and the feeling of the redhead's arms around her was soothing beyond belief.
Beca squeezed the older girl more tightly, trying to convince herself that this was real and Chloe wasn't about to disappear on her, that she was safe, and Chloe just kissed the top of her head and continued gently stroking her back. The sobs eventually died down to choked whimpers, and Beca felt her eyes slip closed from exhaustion.
Chloe watched the smaller girl carefully, and she felt like crying as she saw how Beca's fingers were hooked through the belt loop on her jeans in a subconscious attempt to keep her from leaving. The brunette's body was still gently shuddering from the earlier tears, and Chloe continued to gently trace patterns down Beca's back. It hurt her heart to see the younger girl so hurt and vulnerable.
Chloe had grown up in a family that was not too terribly different from Beca's, but in high school she had sought out as much touch as possible instead of closing herself off. Yes, she had gotten hurt, but the thought of being alone had been worse than any other pain. She had since learned how to set boundaries that were healthy and kept her in a better place, though she knew that most people would have found the idea of her having boundaries laughable.
It was different now- she was different now- regardless of what other people thought, and finding that happy and healthy balance between protecting herself and also satisfying her need for touch had made worlds of difference for her. Chloe ached to see Beca so upset and hurt. She just wanted to scoop the smaller girl up in her arms and protect her from anything that could possibly harm her, and she felt her arms tighten around Beca at the mere thought of someone hurting the other girl.
Exhaling slowly through pursed lips, Chloe frowned at her own actions. As much as she wanted to step in and rescue Beca, the brunette needed to want her to do it. There had to be some sort of invitation, some mutual or reciprocal desire made known, or else Chloe felt she would be taking advantage of the younger girl and forcing her own desires on her.
Chloe had been watching Beca just as closely as Beca had been watching her, and she could see that Beca was practically begging for someone who was safe and wouldn't hurt her. She wasn't blind- she had noticed how Beca leaned into her touches, and how the brunette had gradually let her hug her or hold her hand.
Little touches like that that were safe and didn't carry expectations of anything more could make all the difference in the world sometimes, and could help start to heal wounds that had been there for a lifetime.
Chloe could see Beca wanting more physical contact, more affection, but still being stuck unsure how to ask or express what she wanted. Chloe remembered what it was to be scared, to want things so desperately, with her entire being, but to watch them pass by just out of reach. Being able to articulate what she really wanted, even internally, had been a huge step for her. Being able to express what she did and didn't want with other people- well, that had been one of the hardest things she'd ever worked out, but it had also finally made her feel like she had some control over her life and her body.
Chloe wanted Beca to have that same security and confidence that what she was doing was what she wanted, and that meant not jumping in to save the day and coddle the brunette, or to tell her what she wanted.
Chloe felt a fierce swell of pride as Beca stirred and brown eyes blinked open blearily, squeezing the smaller girl and watching her wake up. She knew that it was likely going to take some time, but she also knew that Beca could do this.
Beca watched the play of emotions across Chloe's face and felt like she had missed something, but instead of asking, she just nuzzled closer, burying her face against Chloe's neck and inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo mingled with a light perfume. Beca couldn't ever remember feeling as loved as she did wrapped up in Chloe's arms, and she paused as she took stock of the situation.
She had broken her cardinal rule and let someone get close to her.
She had also let someone witness her in one of her most vulnerable states, and on top of that she had let that same person touch her and hold her, and she was continuing to allow the connection.
Despite how many things were happening that Beca would normally never allow, somehow the fact that Chloe was the one pushing all of the boundaries made things okay. Beca didn't particularly want to stop and think about what that meant, so she forced her mind blank and just reveled in the warmth of Chloe's embrace, sighing contentedly into her neck. The redhead shivered underneath her, and Beca wondered if she might be cold, but after a moment the other girl settled back in, her warm breath ghosting across the top of Beca's head.
After a few more peaceful minutes, Beca felt Chloe shift, and a few seconds later a pair of lips barely grazed her ear, and Chloe murmured, "I think we should talk."
Everything in Beca tensed at those words, and she warred with her fight or flight instinct, but her desire not to leave Chloe won out over them both and she nodded quietly in defeat, breathing out a soft, "Okay," into the soft skin of Chloe's collarbone.