How long is always?

5 minutes

According to Beca's half brother James, Always lasted a grand total of 5 minutes.

To Beca, though, it felt like hours.

~~~~

Beca paced up and down the white corridors of the art gallery, clutching her phone to her ear.

"Where are you! You're meant to be here in ten minutes. Sheila'll have a fit if you're late. You know how much time she put into this."

"I know, know." James said, his  phone balanced carefully between his neck and his shoulder. "When have I ever been late before?" He asked, manoeuvring his way through the traffic.

"Hmmmm..." Beca thought, trying to come up with an example.

"Exactly. I'm never late."

"I didn't but say I couldn't think of one, because I remember very clearly that time you were nearly late for your own birthday party. I swear I thought I was gonna need to give Sheila CPR."

"I wasn't late. I was almost late - there's a difference."

"James, if you don't get your ass down here soon, I'm gonna have to come up with some lame excuse to tame the step-monster."

"Don't worry, I'll be there. Why 'step-monster'? She isn't that bad."

"Dunno. Has a nice ring to it. I guess a part of me is still mad at Cindy for being such a bitch and part of me is still mad that Dad broke his promise. I don't hate her, I just hate that he lied."

"You really need to get over that. They've been married for ages now. She's good for him. You and I both know that."

"I know it's just..." Beca trailed off. She did tell the truth: she was still mad at Cindy. She was also still kind of annoyed at her dad. But she was also mad at her grandpa for dying and leaving her behind. She was mad at her mum for abandoning her when she was only eight days old. She knew she was being unfair and that a normal person would have forgotten about it by now, but part of her didn't want to forget. 

"Don't bother trying to explain yourself. I can practically hear your mind whirring with deep thoughts and I'm not sure I wanna deal with them whilst driving. I'd probably crash or something."

"Yeah don't crash. I'm not sure I could handle trying to explain to the step monster that you're not only late but also in the hospital with a concussion and a broken leg, not to mention the fact that you'd need a new car, again..."

"Yeah sure I'll try to hurry up."

"Cool. Drive safe."

"Always."

~~~~

Five minutes later Beca received a phone call from her brother.

She rolled her eyes before picking up the phone. "James, you are now officially two minutes late. If you don't hurry up I swear I'll..."

She was cut off by a voice that was definitely not James'.

"Sorry ma'am. I'm not James." If anything the voice sounded somewhat apologetic.

"Who the hell are you then and why do you have his phone?" Beca demanded. 

"Sergeant Collins. I'm sorry to say that James has been in a car accident. I'm so sorry. He didn't make it."

Beca was confused. He ears must have been broken. She could have sworn she heard the man say 'he didn't make it' but that wasn't possible.

"He didn't make it."

She couldn't hear what the man was saying but she knew he was saying something. She had no idea how she knew he was saying something if she couldn't hear him speaking. 

"He didn't make it"

Was she deaf? She couldn't have been. She could hear the music from the art gallery's opening day. She hated that song. She could hear Sheila calling her name from across the room. She could hear her own shagged breathing. She could hear herself sobbing and gasping for air.

"He didn't make it."

Hang on. Was she crying? Why was she crying?  Maybe it was because she couldn't hear what the man was saying. Yeah. That made sense. Maybe she was crying because she had suddenly lost her hearing. It was understandable.

"He didn't make it."

Beca's brain finally caught up with her. 

"He didn't make it."

She heard the police officer's words replay in her head. She collapsed to the floor. Sheila ran towards her. Beca couldn't hear what she was saying. That's because she turned deaf. Yeah. That made sense.

"He didn't make it." She whispered.

"He didn't make it." She screamed, the people around her trying, in vain, to ask her what had happened. Who didn't make it. 

"Why didn't he make it?" 

And Beca sobbed.