how long before you can't remember me?

summary: i think i did something really bad. promise you won't tell?
disclaimer: victorious is not mine.

warnings: includes teen pregnancy, self-mutilation, & mentions of abortion. i'm really sorry i wrote this; it's way too dark.


There's this list that Jade West keeps in her room.

It's hidden inside the bible that daddy bought mommy the month before he left, because she knows that no one will ever look there.

The first object on her list is Beck Oliver, so maybe you can guess what the title of her list is.

But you probably can't.


She deflates a little when she catches him looking at Tori like she's some perfect, little princess. And maybe she has to dig her nails into the skin on his palm to get his attention again, but it's no big deal, because she can handle him looking.

Just don't touch, baby; everyone at Hollywood Arts knows Beck belongs to Jade and Jade belongs to Beck and they belong together. It's always been Beck&Jade and Jade&Beck and all the secrets in between (but no matter how hard they try, there are a few secrets that just s l i p out).

Have you noticed her tummy getting justalittlebit bigger?

Beck rolls his eyes at this, scoffs, defends her – she just had a big lunch, asshole, you're not looking too thin, yourself.

She lets out a breath and oh my fucking god i need a pregnancy test now.


It reads negative, and both she and Beck let out little sighs of relief.

They have a congratulatory fuck while she's practically high on birth control, and a month later it reads positive, but she doesn't tell Beck. Instead, she starts eating more so her weight gain can be blamed on her sudden change in diet.

No one can know. Not even him – especially not him.

"I don't know what the fuck I'd do if you were pregnant; my life would be r u i n e d."


She doesn't have money for abortion. Hell, she hardly had enough money to buy Beck a birthday present last week (actually she had to borrow money from Tori, but she said it was no big deal so Jade doesn't tell her that she'll get paid back; and let's face it, she won't). And she definitely doesn't have the money to raise it, does she?

She is in some deep shit.

That is all.


They're w h i s p e r i n g again.

Did you hear? There's a rumor going around –

No way, is she really –?

I don't know for sure, but people are talking about –

And she just can't take it anymore; she feels watched, feels like a victim. Her fears increase tenfold when Beck grabs her arm and drags her into the supply closet outside of the theatre.

"What?" She whispers harshly, her voice catching in her throat when her eyes meet his.

"You're not." It's a statement. There's no question, no hope; just starkness, as though he's reading statistics off of a sheet of paper.

She decides it's best to play dumb, and asks, "Not what?"

He lets go of her arm and slams his hand into the door.

"You know what," he spits, and she can't help but shrink a little under his gaze; it's dark and looming and she doesn't think she's ever felt so frightened to be alone with him, "These fucking rumors; you're not are you?" He hesitates at her dumbfounded gaze, "Pregnant?"

She doesn't answer.

"Shit!" He punches the wall behind her, "Shit!"

"Beck," she starts, but he curses and slams his hand against the concrete once more, "Beck, I…I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize." He mutters, putting his head heavily on her shoulder and rubbing her arms with his hands. "Shit – I just." He pauses, searching for the right words. He finds none more appropriate than "Shit."


Two days later, someone calls her fat and she punches them in the jaw.

Then she runs into the theatre and sobs for an hour until Lane comes in and asks her if she wants to talk about anything. She punches him, too, and Beck has to take her home after she gets suspended for the rest of the week.

He kisses her on the forehead and says that everything will be alright (no it won't) and tells her not to worry (my mom is going to kill me) and promises that he'll find a way to fix this (my life is over).

Then he tells her he still thinks she's beautiful and all she can say is you suck at lying.


He dumps her, and tells her it's because he just doesn't love her anymore.

She doesn't fight with him.

"What part of you suck at lying did you not understand?"

Then, "I can't be a father, Jade."

She doesn't miss a beat; "And you think I can be a mom? You think I can pay for this thing, and raise it, and be a good mother to it all on my own? Because I can't; and if I could, I would have given up on it a long time ago. You're just fucking lucky you have that choice. I don't."

She doesn't know what she expects to achieve with that. Maybe an apology, maybe a promise that he'll go through with it, maybe a whispered I love you. But she doesn't really expect what comes next.

"I can't."

When did you become such an asshole?

"We're o v e r."

That word just. Won't. Fucking. Stop. Ringing in her ears.


"I think I did something really bad." She tells Tori the second she opens the door.

"Jade – what?" Tori asks, stepping aside so Jade can come in. Jade doesn't move, she just stares at her hands and shakes. "Jade?" Tori reaches for her, but she jerks away, taking a step backwards and glancing up to look at Tori with wide eyes.

"What did you do?" Tori whispers, fear apparent in her voice, "Oh my God, what did you do?"

What did you do. What did you do. What the h e l l did you do?

"I think it's dead."

Tori freezes, "You think…what is dead?"

"The baby, Tori – the, the thing in my stomach, I think – it's dead! Oh God, it's got to be dead…!" She can't stop shaking, but she lifts up her shirt to show the bruises on her stomach, and Tori looks like she's going to throw up.

"We've – I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No! No – it's dead. It has to be! Beck will take me back if it's dead!"

"Jade, you're…sick. We're going to the hospital!"

Jade, you're a fucking p s y c h o.

How could you, Jade? Why did you do it, Jade? Jade, does he really mean that much to you? Jade, what is he going to think? You did a bad thing, Jade. Jade, you did a bad, bad, bad thing.


It's gone, the doctors say, the force of impact killed it – young lady, what happened, exactly? Young lady?

Jade laughs and laughs and laughs.

She wanted this, right? Then why the fuck does her stomach feel so empty? Why does her heart feel so goddamn cold?

"I'm freezing," she says, "It's really cold. Turn up the heat?" Then she laughs again, "But not that kind of heat." Tori clutches her shoulder and whispers shut up. But Jade's never been good at doing what she's told so she speaks louder, "It's still fucking cold in here, doc."


Beck doesn't come back.

You killed it? Jade, you're fucking s i c k.

And no matter how much she cries and screams and grabs his shirt and begs him not to go, he does, anyways. Was it really all for nothing?

She cuts herself for the first time in her life (nearly dies, too – too bad she didn't cut deep enough FUCK MY LIFE and instead of hell she ends up in some sick, white mental hospital, which is probably the equivalent of it).


They find that list because they think having God in her life will be good for her.

"What does it mean?" They all ask her, but she doesn't give a straight answer.

They know the answer anyways.


The last object on her list is Beck Oliver.

The title is "What matters to me".


But you probably guessed that.


a/n: what the fuck is this writing style? first off - i would like to apologize for the darkness of this fic; i almost didn't post it for the fear of it being too heavy, but i kind of wanted to see what people thought about this type of writing. this could be a bad idea, i'm not quite sure yet. but, yes, it's written. and yes, it's terribly dark. i'm sorry! D: i've been in a dark mood, lately, and i can sort of see jade's logic twisted around if she thought she was honestly losing beck for good; you know, her judgement getting clouded, her sense of right and wrong screwed with. i don't even know; she basically just went crazy because she lost the one thing that mattered to her and. just, urgh, thank you for reading. sorry again for the gloom.