Every Day [Bechloe Fan Fiction]

7) The One Where Everyone's Worried

Fat Amy stood outside Beatrice's school, watching with a small smile as the girl rushed down the steps towards her, dragging her little blonde friend behind her. The little girl scanned the people all around Amy, but her face soon fell.

"Momma?" She asked Fat Amy pleadingly. Fat Amy shook her head sadly and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Not this time," she said sadly. "Come on, girls, let's go."

Amy walked over to the car she was borrowing to drive Beatrice and her friend Alice to and from school in. She swiftly drove the girls back to Alice's house. As they walked up the steps to the house, she caught Beatrice looking longingly at her own home next door. She felt a pang out guilt, but pushed it back.

"We're back!" Fat Amy called, unlocking the door with the spare key.

"Hiya, guys!" A voice called back. Susan appeared from the kitchen, her blonde hair swaying gently as she swiftly walked over to them, taking her daughter into her arms first and then Beatrice.

"How's Momma, Aunt Susan? Better?" Beatrice asked worriedly. Susan gently held Beatrice out at arms length and tucked a strand of the girls curly ginger hair behind her ear.

"Not yet, honey." She said softly. "Fingers crossed though, yes?" Beatrice nodded dejectedly.

"Can I see her?" She whispered.

"I don't think so, baby girl, not yet. Once she starts to feel better you can," Susan sighed. "I know it's hard."

Tears welled up in Beatrice's eyes and suddenly she was sobbing, choking as she did so. Susan quickly pulled the little girl into her arms and rubbed her back soothingly.

"I-I want m-my Momma," Beatrice sobbed, straining to speak through her tears. "I w-want my M-Momma! I WANT MOMMA!"

"Shh, shh, baby. Shh, it's okay, Bee. I've got you, I know you want your Momma." Susan tried desperately to sooth the now screaming child.

"MOMMA! MOMMA!" Beatrice cried, refusing to be calmed down. Her arms flailed as she tried to reach behind Susan and towards the stairs. "M-M-MOMMA-A-A!"

"Jesus.." Susan muttered in despair.

She was at the end of her tether. Her best friend was unconscious in her spare bedroom, her best friends daughter was a screaming wreck and completely inconsolable, and to top it all off, there was a strange woman she didn't know staying with them. Her home had become a mad house.

"C-can I do anything to help?" Fat Amy asked. Susan looked up at the woman weakly.

"Yes, er, Fat Amy... Please could you take Bea into the living room and try to calm her down? I need to get dinner ready." Susan's reply was empty of emotion.

She watched numbly as Fat Amy nervously scooped Beatrice out of her arms and carried her away. She grabbed her own daughter's hand, taking her into the kitchen with her.

Fat Amy clutched the squirming girl tightly, afraid of dropping her. It had been three days now since Beca had got 'sick' and Beatrice definitely wasn't dealing with it very well.

Fat Amy had barely been able to look at her without feeling physically sick with guilt. It was all her fault that Beca was sick. She had asked Fat Amy to go, had explained how difficult it was, yet Fat Amy had been stupid and hadn't left. God, why hadn't she just left?

"Momma..." She was broken out of her thoughts by Beatrice's whimper. The girl had stopped struggling and was now curled up against Fat Amy's chest. Fat Amy stroked her hair gently, unsure of what to do.

"She'll be okay," Fat Amy whispered unsurely.

"When?" Beatrice shot back. "Tomorrow? Two days? Two weeks?"

It fell silent again. Fat Amy didn't reply. What could she say? She didn't know.

"...Or two months...like last time..."

"What?" Fat Amy asked, her head snapping up. "Last time?"

Beatrice shrugged, looking away. Her eyes were still full of tears and she looked very lost. Fat Amy just wanted to wrap her up in a big hug. But she needed answers first.

"I'm not supposed to talk about it," she muttered.

"Why not?" Fat Amy pushed. "You can tell me." Beatrice shook her head.

"No I can't," she insisted. "Ask Aunt Susan..."

Fat Amy couldn't get anything else out of Bea after that, so she put on Tangled and left her in peace. Alice sat beside her friend throughout the whole movie, keeping ahold of the girl's hand. Susan brought in their dinner during the film, letting them eat it on the sofa. One more movie later, Frozen, and both girls were sent off to bed for an early night.

It was only after both girls were safely in bed that Amy decided to broach the subject of Beca with Susan. She wasn't sure how the woman would react, she was seriously protective of Beca.

"Hey, um, about Beca... Beatrice mentioned that this...situation...may have happened before..." She began nervously. Susan physically tensed up and didn't look at Fat Amy.

"Beca suffers from PTSD; post-traumatic stress disorder. She's suffered from it for as long as I've known her. It means she sometimes has episodes like this when she's under stress," she explained in a monotone voice. "We don't talk about it. She wouldn't be deemed fit to look after Bee alone if people knew."

Silence fell between them. So it wasn't completely her fault after all. Beca was just like this now...

Fat Amy opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She didn't know what to say. She closed it again slowly. Susan glanced up at her briefly.

"Keep your mouth shut, okay?" She said before briskly walking away. Fat Amy winced and nodded. Susan barely waited around for an answer.

Fat Amy sighed, slouching against the sofa. What on earth had she gotten herself into?

Two days later, Fat Amy walked into Susan's house carrying two ice creams. She was happily chomping on one and was holding the other to give to Susan as a surprise. Both the little girls were with her holding their own.

Fat Amy sent them off to watch TV before going in search of Susan. She wasn't in the kitchen, her usual room of choice. Actually, she wasn't down stairs at all. Fat Amy took a deep, shakey breath and went to look up stairs.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine. ... It really doesn't matter. ... No, don't even worry about it. ... Bec, seriously. Don't you worry about anything. Get some rest, okay, honey?"

Fat Amy froze as she heard the whispering voice. She had to strain to hear because the voice was so quiet. She knew it much be Susan, but she couldn't be talking to Beca. Beca was barely conscious, let alone in a position for conversation.

"Susan?" She called out warily. "I bought you ice cream..."

There was a shuffling sound and Susan peaked out from a dark doorway. She smiled weakly at Amy.

"Thanks," she strode across the hallway and took her ice cream.

Susan looked at her, resentment being repressed behind her eyes. She sighed and looked at the ground.

"I think you should go in there..." She muttered, shrugging.

"Me? Why me?" Fat Amy spluttered, looking lost.

"You need to see her. That's why you're here, right? For Beca? That's why you've stuck around," Susan pointed out. Fat Amy was rendered speechless.

"I wanted to help you," she spluttered helplessly. "It was my fault she-"

"No...no it wasn't. You didn't know," Susan whispered gently. "You didn't know. Now go in there and see her. She's probably waiting."

With that, Susan left Fat Amy standing alone in a strangers corridor, trying to muster up the courage to go into the room where a woman who was once her best friend was residing.

It was definitely a sorry sight to see.