#bebsislurking

Beca looked up from her hands eyes meeting the impossibly blue ones that were looking at her with nothing but concern and that same unwavering support she had always had for. She didn't know what she'd ever done to deserve being looked at like that, that unconditional, ever-present admiration and love that had been there from that very first day.

That's what had made all of this so much more confusing to her. Chloe loved her, even if Beca didn't understand why a lot of the time, she loved her, and always had. Always defended her even when she was wrong. Always made her laugh, made her smile, made her feel safe. Why was she supposed to believe that it was wrong?

"I'm sorry..."

Chloe's hand gently reached out and took one of Beca's, stopping her from picking at the hangnail she had been working at the entire drive back, the habit she always fell back into when she was stressed. Chloe had never yelled at her about, never chastised her or made her feel stupid for it, she always just gently took her hands in hers, or passed her something to occupy her hands with instead, always so calm and gentle with her, even when Beca was at her lowest.

So gentle, so loving, even now. Even when Beca had told every awful thing they had said about her. Every admittedly true flaw and problem with Beca that was going to ruin this. Chloe had sat and listened to it all, and still she looked at her like that. Like she was perfect, and wonderful, and somehow worthy of being with her, even if she was none of these things.

"What are you sorry for?" Beca mumbled, eyes falling to her hands again, unable to bare the way she was looking at her. Unable to bare that love she saw in her eyes.

"That they can't see you like I do."

Her tone was level, calm, quiet, a stark contrast to how the rest of her day had gone. Of how loudly the memories of it had played in her head over and over as she drove back home. Back to Chloe. Back to calm, and safe, and serene. Back to being loved, even if she didn't deserve it.

"That you had to go there, and listen to all of that awful stuff on your own."

That wasn't Chloe's fault. She hadn't been allowed to bring her. They told her not to because they didn't like her, didn't approve of her influence over Beca, thought she was a bad influence on her. Today hadn't helped with that.

She was used to them talking that way about her, used to all the barbed compliments disguised as "constructive criticism", the jabs about how she dressed, how she looked, how she walked, talked, breathed. But hearing those things directed at Chloe? At the perfect, sweet, kind, bubbly woman who made her feel safe and unconditionally loved for the first time in her life?

It made her angry. Made her palms sweat, made her stomach twist, her heart pound. They didn't know Chloe. They didn't understand how good meeting Chloe had been for her. And they certainly didn't get to tell her how bad and awful Chloe was when they'd never even tried to meet her.

"They're wrong Beca."

Chloe's hand reached out and cupped Beca's cheek. The one that still ached from earlier. The one that had still been red even after the four drive back. The one that Chloe had wordlessly gotten ice for even though Beca knew she wanted to ask questions about it.

She couldn't help the way she flinched slightly at the touch. Chloe would never hurt her, she knew that. It didn't even really hurt that much anymore, but still the memory of the hand that struck her so hard she had fallen to the floor flashed in her mind. Her mom's hand. Her mom's hand.

"There is nothing wrong with you."

Beca felt Chloe move closer, feeling her bottom lip start to tremble, her resolve beginning to crumble. She had held it in. All the way home. Through the agonising description of the day that had unfolded. Beca hadn't broken, hadn't shown weakness, hadn't let them see it. She had just left. Just left. But now, she was starting to fall apart.

"You are beautiful, and smart, and so so perfect."

Chloe's hand on her cheek gently guided Beca's head back up so that she could the sincerity in her expression, could communicate just how deep her love for her went. Beca was starting to shake with the effort of holding herself together, hating falling apart in any circumstances, even here with Chloe. Hated being weak. She was sick of being weak.

"I told her I was happy. That I was in love."

Beca's voice cracked as Chloe's thumb gently stroked along her sore cheek. There was no disappointment in her eyes, no anger or contempt. Beca wasn't used to being looked at like that.

"And she hit me. She got angry with me because I'm happy."

Her bottom lip trembled, a stray tear slipping down her cheek. She could hold it in. She could keep being strong, unaffected, never letting it break her. She'd done that all her life, she could do it now too.

Chloe lent forward, gently kissing the tear away from her now bruising skin, and that was all it took to break the dam. Beca started to sob, letting Chloe pull her into her embrace, choking on her tears as she wept into her chest.

"Why doesn't she love me Chlo?"

The words were gasped out through her tears, the response to them simply Chloe's arms tightening around her, cradling her. Beca was falling apart, showing weakness, everything she had grown up being taught not to do and it terrified her. But here, in Chloe's arms, with her fingers carding softly through her hair as she pressed soft kisses to the crown of her head, she didn't feel like she was doing something wrong. For the first time in her life, Beca felt safe to be weak for a change.

"What did I ever do wrong?"

"Nothing Becs." Chloe mumbled into her hair, "Absolutely nothing. This isn't your fault, this isn't something you've ever done wrong. It's her, it's always been her."

"I don't get it... I... I just wanted her to love me."

"I know baby." Chloe sighed softly, holding her tighter, "I'm so sorry."

Beca continued to cry into her chest, letting out every emotion that she had bottled up not only today, but every day for the last twenty years. This was her safe place, Chloe was her safe space, and for the first time in two decades, Beca could feel her emotions without fearing attack or reprisal for it.

As her tears finally eased, Chloe's tight embrace never did, grounding her, making sure that she knew that she wasn't going anywhere, that Beca was safe. Safe. It shouldn't be such a foreign concept to her.

"I love you."

Chloe's fingers continued to run in a soft, steady rhythm through her hair, not breaking stride as she spoke her gentle reassurances against her head.

"I will always love you Becs, just the way you are."

"Why?" Beca whispered, sniffing softly, "My own mother doesn't. So why do you?"

"Because I'm not a blind idiot." Chloe scoffed a little, "Because I can see how strong you are. How beautiful you are, how kind, and selfless, and thoughtful, and goofy you are. I love you, every single part of you, exactly as it is. And if she doesn't? Well, that's her loss. It just means more of you for me."

This managed to elicit the softest of laughs from Beca, sniffing again as she curled tighter into Chloe's embrace, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady beat of her heart. The heart that loved her, that had picked her, that continued to pick her over and over again.