Title: our lovers leave us eventually
Summary: you're too young.
Author's Note: Edited to fix flow and errors as of 2/28/15. This was once a farewell fic for FanFiction, but I'm a sucker for this site and everyone on it.
the memories going whirling by as
the ashes of burnt letters from past lovers fly around us.
but one day, these memories will find their place,
back in our tears, back in their place,
curled around wet lashes.
you're too young, beck says, staring at the girl in front of him.
his eyes twinkle with envy. she smiles, thin lipped, white and translucent all over.
no, i'm not.
and then, beck is alone.
she laughs strangely, mouth twisting as the noise turns to a hacking cough. her eyes smile.
beck whispers, are you okay, babe?
tori's smile disappears, i think i might be leaving you soon.
beck grabs her and kisses her too roughly. she can't breathe.
don't you ever leave me, he says, peppering her face with too soft kisses.
tori is not sure if she can promise that anymore.
their last day is January 13th, 2019. their car, going exactly fifty three miles per hour, slams into a tree.
everyone shows up to their funeral. the mourning parties cry for people already spinning upwards. tori and beck hope they'll find angels or friends and family who have passed.
but when they arrive to the pearly gates, the angels sit behind desks and stare at their nails, ask beck and tori pointedly what their religion is.
he replies, we don't have one.
suddenly, they're not at the gates anymore, but at a clerk's desk. the clerk spreads pamphlets across a mahogany desk, asks, do you want to look at your options?
they look through brochures and spread as if they were looking at vacation spots rather than their resting place. beck and tori choose the option to be reborn, and before they know it, they're signing papers to rent a house in heavenly acres and they settle down, counting down nine months to go back to the world.
they make up a significant portion of the young people in heavenly acres. with limited options for friends, they are forced into socializing with the elderly. beck plays golf with a group of old men every wednesday and tori knits with women on thursdays. sometimes, they go to the city to look for young people to hang out with, but they never accomplish making friends.
they think it's because the elderly have more time, they aren't so scared to make new friends. in comparison to their friends' indifference to death, beck and tori count the days until they have to leave each other. the sheer knowledge that they will part, that they could be separated by entire continents, language barriers, or socioeconomic groups, starts to drive them farther from one another, rather than closer.
one day, during dinner, tori's knife slips and cuts her hand. she clutches her hand, expecting to feel the pain, but no blood comes from the wound. she cries as beck holds her.
she feels empty, she cries, she knits another sweater.
he knows she won't be able to handle this world for much longer.
she cries when he treats her like a china doll, stroking her hair, kissing her gently — every touch so gentle and so soft.
love you, tor, he says, voice too kind.
don't be nice to me, she whispers, all too harsh compared to his comforting embrace. i'm weak.
she pushes him away, locks herself in the bathroom. he stays outside the door, urging her to come out, until she tells him to leave. he makes her a plate of food, but when he goes to check on her, he finds her asleep in their bed.
he sees the open wounds on her wrists. his breath gets lost when he sees the tiny pricks of blood on the edges.
what, now, feels like lifetimes ago, he sat jade down and told her he was leaving her.
well, that was a long time coming, jade said, snorting.
she cries when he takes the couch that night and he holds her. they knew, as jade stated so plainly, that it was a long time coming, but even beck had to admit, it was hard to let go of those years they had spent together. years full of yelling until they gave in to one another, knowing the way the other took their coffee, holding each other up.
but when he sees tori vega after five years, wringing her hands with her head between her knees at an audition for a movie he's directing, he knows there's more to a relationship than the little things. when he asks her out for coffee, (as friends, he said, and tried not to see the disappointment in her eyes), he knows there's no point to holding on to something that's not right anymore.
part of beck has always known it was tori. the girl who he'd spend the rest of his life with, who he'd want to see across the kitchen table every morning. he's known it since he first kissed her. even seeing her in all her zombified state, caked on makeup done by cat, he knew she was the only right person for him.
so, the morning after he breaks up with jade, he leaves her a cup of coffee on her nightstand and calls tori.
he brings her to a diner because during their coffee date, she expressed a disappointment in the fries in los angeles. when they reach the parking lot, he looks over at her in the passenger seat, twiddling her thumbs, and kisses her.
she tastes right and makes him feel like a clichéd teenager in love, with sweaty palms and a dry mouth. she laughs when she intertwines their hands.
and that's the way he spends the rest of his short life, hands interlocked with hers over the gear shift, still clasped when they slip on black ice and crash into an oak tree.
he hears her cry out and reaches in the bed to comfort her. her side of the bed is cold.
beck runs to the bathroom, and finds her with a knife in hand. her newly made scars drip her lifeline home. she laughs and he wants it to be cold, but it's full of joy he suddenly realizes has been missing.
i'm going back, beck. i have to go back.
he kisses her, clutching her by her hips, crashing her into his chest. he pretends that she's there with him by choice, but her blood seeps into his sweater and he knows this is the end.
tori kisses him open mouthed, lets her tears settle between their mouths.
bye beck, she says, stepping away.
you're too young, he insists.
you know the rest of the story.
tori vega is reborn as a beautiful baby girl.
"her name is may," her new mother whispers.
her new father holds her close to his chest, "hello may."
tori-may falls asleep in her father's arms and feels no sorrow. there are no scars, no tears, no memories in this life.
beck watches her from his bedroom, watches her parents bring her home, her mother sitting in the back seat with her to keep her safe. he does not want to be reborn if it means he'll forget the way she looks, if he can't see her grow up.
he goes to the clerk, gets on his hands and knees to beg her to change his life plan.
i can't forget her, he cries. i need to remember her.
despite herself, the clerk's eyes fill with tears.
i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.
she closes the window with a resounding slam.
beck is playing golf when he cuts his finger on something. his blood falls onto the grass. he swipes it with his foot so no one sees.
when he gets into his car, he allows himself to cry.
beck is reborn as a lovely baby boy.
his mother is escorted out in a gurney. the blankets covering her are bloodstained. he does not notice this, because his eyes are still closed.
"beck," his new father says to the nurse, voice cracking with grief. "she would want me to name him beck."
beck is handed to the nurse while his father cries.
beck starts to wail. behind his eyes, he sees his whole life flash behind his eyes, his greatest hits with tori. he sees the first time they kissed, feels the weight of the stage underneath his tiny feet, feels her mouth curl against his.
the first time they fucked, made love, said i love you, comforted each other. the last time they fucked, made love, said i love you, comforted each other.
every time flashes before his eyes before he sees the time the light caught her wedding ring in the sunlight and blinded him. he feels the grass on his neck and the softness of her thigh against of his.
and then, struck by the brightness in his memories, he opens his eyes and she is gone.