Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious.
Summary: She'll sit by his side every day, hold his hand, and pray that he wakes up - she's fallen that far. BeckJade, oneshot
Uh, yeah. Not sure where this came from. I just had the urge to write Victorious and here this is. It's a bit more angsty than the rest of by fics, but I hope that y'all enjoy it nonetheless. It's nothing really major, just a little scenario I had thought up. I would love to hear your opinions! Thanks for reading! (After the new episode, I'm sure there will be more where this came from lol.)
Sentry
The beeping of the monitor pisses her off.
Everything pisses her off about this place, really. It's not hard to do. It was never hard to do, actually. But it's become increasingly hard to not piss off Jade West these days. She doesn't even try - well, she never really tried in the first place - to have a bright attitude, because there's no reason.
In all actuality, she should be happy that the monitor is still beeping. Beep, beep, beep. Beck's life, resorted to mechanical sounds on a screen, pulsating little things hitching higher and sinking and so on and so forth. She should be glad that the thing is beeping instead of the bone chilling alternative.
But, as was said before, the beeping pisses her off.
The whole situation pisses her off.
He's been like this for months. Just lying there, immobile. The only things keeping him with her looping and linking around him. Tubes and wires and needles and machines. All of it is enough to make someone with her strong gut very ill.
Beck was never a very large person to begin with, but he's lost weight since all of this happened. She can see his cheekbones, the skin stretched tight over his face. His hair, lacking its usual luster. His skin, washed out and alien looking. Whoever said hospitals help people was lying, she is sure of it. Because this, whatever this is, can't help anyone at all. Nothing about this situation is helpful.
He just lies there. The beautiful boy with the tragic story that has been all over the papers as of late. The papers, the news - local and nationwide - and every available media outlet. Beck Oliver has become famous.
"Promising Hollywood Arts Students In Car Accident. Famous Actor Involved."
She sees the headline behind her lids, bold and taunting and horrible, every chance she closes them. There's been lawsuits and everything filed against the 'famous actor' that she refuses to give name to - even in her head, it tastes like poison. Reporters have taken statements from everyone.
Everyone left, Jade thinks bitterly.
"Beckett Oliver, Andre Harris, and Catherine Valentine were involved in a fatal car crash, caused by one of the hometown heroes. Harris was killed on impact, Valentine was pronounced dead on arrival, Oliver now remains comatose in First General Hospital…"
Funny, how many times she's read that article.
She clenches his hand that much tighter.
Two funerals - two of her best friends in caskets wearing their best and looking like they had not been in a car accident, but looking like they had just happened to fall asleep. And now her boyfriend - her Beck - is reduced to being a vegetable, lying here with no hope of waking up. The odds decrease more and more as he lies there.
Of course, the whole thing happened months ago. There's still a chance he could wake up…
She scoffs to herself, thinking that Tori's blinding optimism has somehow rubbed off on her.
Stupid.
And she waits.
Like some bizarre sentry on duty for the one they love. She can't bear to leave. She only leaves long enough to go to school, then she practically lives at the hospital. Sleeps on the unfortunate couch in the corner. Does her homework. Showers. But mostly, she talks to him.
She figures it's the least she can do. His parents are busy with lawyers and the like. They do visit him quite often, despite their estranged relationship. She knows he will always be their son - just like he will always be hers.
Tori and Robbie visit every day, but they mostly spend their time at the gravesites. Jade knows the pull a loved one holds, so she can't blame them. She also visits. Every day, on the way from school and to the hospital. She leaves flowers when she can afford them and seems to stare at the headstones until her eyes sting.
"He'll come out of this, Jade, I know it."
"Shut up, Tori."
That seems to be the way that she and Tori cope. Though her insults usually lack the bite they had before and she has actually found that Tori isn't so bad. The same with Robbie. Tragedy brings people closer. All that bullshit applies to her life now, apparently, and she doesn't know whether to be glad that she has friends or bitter that she doesn't have three of them anymore. Two permanently and one not completely. She tastes bile in the back of her throat.
Jade strokes her fingers across the back of Beck's hand, watching as the odd lighting of the hospital casts strange shadows across his face, highlighting the valleys of his face where he used to be healthy.
The rise and fall of his chest is the only thing tying her to reality. She imagines that if it were to ever stop, then she might as well be in a comatose state herself.
The tube down his throat is grotesque, separating his pretty lips and making him look worse than he is. She'd love to rip it out and force him to wake up, but she knows that wouldn't work. It'd make things even worse - as if they could get worse than they are.
Jade almost starts to growl deep in her throat, reminded of just how helpless she feels. How she can't do anything about this. She's used to being the kind of person that takes action, except there is no action she can take in this. She's caught in a stand-still. Unable to help, unable to do anything except sit here, stare at her boyfriend, yell at the nurses who look like they're incompetent, talk with Tori, and eventually go to school the next day. There's a television, at least, thought she pretty much has it on the news all the time. The news or on some music video channel - not that MTV crap, the ones that actually still show music videos…
She realizes her thoughts have gone on a tangent, and she tries to get them under control.
Jade takes one of her hands and strokes back the hair that has clung to Beck's forehead. She hears the tentative footsteps behind and the smell of Chinese food and knows that Tori has brought dinner and Robbie this time. Greetings are exchanged, but no one is particularly happy about them. Jade may be a little happier to see Tori, but that's it. (And she won't admit that to anyone.)
Tori passes out the food and takes her place on the uncomfortable couch that still bears signs of being slept on. Robbie joins her. After a few minutes, Jade grabs a carton of food and moves to the chair alongside the wall and just stares, picking at the food like it's completely unappetizing.
And so they wait.
Wait for a sign, wait for movement - a fluttering of eyelids, a twitch of a finger - wait for something other than what they have become used to in this wretched hospital.
That's all they can do, really.
End.
