Had a sweetheart on his knees
So faithful and adoring
And he touched me, and I let him love me
So let that be my story
-.-.-.-
Fingertips trail over the exposed skin of her shoulders, tracing patterns invisible to everyone except their maker.
Jade sighs in contentment when his wandering digits travel down the valley of her chest, taking a moment to brush against and tickle her ribcage before continuing their path towards her stomach. An uncharacteristic giggle escapes her lips when he begins scribing imaginary letters on her skin before shifting his body so he can press a kiss against her sensitive belly.
"You're gonna be Daddy's Little Girl."
"Yeah; no," Jade scoffs, lifting her left hand so she could run her fingers through his hair as he rested his head on her stomach. "This baby's going to be a boy."
"That's what you think," he retorts, before angling his head down to mock whisper to his unborn child. "But we both know the truth, don't we, Calliope?"
"I will deny you as the father before I ever let any kid I pop out have that name."
He laughs, and his voice is rich and sincere and so damn happy that Jade can't stop the smile that forms on her face. They're both lying in a mattress thrown over a blanket on the floor of their new, two-bedroom apartment. Their parents, deciding that, while their situation was inconvenient, they did not want their first grandchild to be born and raised inside a cold and miniscule RV, had opted to buy the young couple an apartment. Of course, the two main conditions established were that they both had to finish their last year of school and Beck had to get a job to pay for the rest of their necessities.
"We'll see," he answers, and a content sigh falls from his lips as he fidgets on the bed so he can rest his head on her shoulder and wrap an arm around her. "You have that ultrasound next week and little Opie and I will have the last laugh."
"As if," Jade scoffs, before allowing her hand to fall onto her round stomach. "This bump and I go way back, and he knows better than to side against mommy."
"Well we go back to before Bump," he states, pressing a kiss against the expanse of her neck. "And, I love you."
Her heart swells. "Hmm," she murmurs, but leans her head against his and he knows she means it back.
As she lies there, Jade thinks back to the first night she discovered she was pregnant, and can't help but be astonished by how much her feelings had changed over a few months. If anyone had ever told her she'd be happy to be a mom at eighteen, she would have laughed and then punched them in the face.
How things changed.
-.-
She tries to remember a time when a few seconds have felt so long.
A distant memory of her father slamming the front door of the home she'd grown up in, as he walked out of her life, flashes through her mind, but that's quickly dulled by the minutes and hours she spent waiting for him to return that night. That train of thought is quickly followed by the aching moments she'd spent waiting outside Tori Vega's home as she counted down the seconds her lover had to follow her.
No. This was definitely taking longer.
The days and weeks that had passed by after their breakup hadn't felt this long. Granted, she'd spent a large part of that time either blocking her feelings or fueling her anger, but she'd always known deep down that she had the power to change that. Longing gazes in the hallways and lingering brushes in search of necessary contact had been all the reminders she needed in reassurance that he'd still wanted her. Even at its worst, she'd always had at least some level of control in her situation.
But, this?
This was terrifying and uncontrollable and unchangeable and so damn slow.
God, it was fucking torture.
Finally, she hears the shrill ring of the timer she'd set up screeching from her phone. Jade quickly presses her fingers against the touchscreen, loading in her password to turn off the alarm and promptly throw the phone as far away from her possible to evade any possible interruptions. It was bad enough that she's in her mother's home while that woman was free to snoop around, the last thing she needed was her brother walking in on her. Taking a deep breath, she grabs for the offending object that had been mocking her for the last five minutes from the marvel countertop of her bathroom sink and groans when her eyes tightly shut against her wishes.
Man the Hell up, West.
Scolding herself, she wills her eyelids to open and forces herself to stare down at the thin stick in her hands. Jade holds her breath as she stares at her results, taking the time to double check that she'd read the directions correctly. Because she's her, she knows she did, but decides that wishful thinking was made for fools like her anyways, so she fits right in. It doesn't matter. Regardless of how many times she may read the directions over, her results would never change.
Two lines.
Pregnant.
-.-
She's six months along when they finally graduate from Hollywood Arts.
By now the entire student body had been made aware of her condition and it'd taken a very angry and determined Sikowitz and Lane to convince Helen to allow her to finish the school year. Jade had told them not to bother, for the first time in her life being thankful that her absentee father was a half-decent lawyer, but they'd both refused to budge.
Everyone had felt entitled to an opinion then.
Half the people on the campus claimed that it was inevitable. Of course she'd end up pregnant; white trash at its finest. Others thought she'd done it on purpose; a trick to trap Beck into a relationship when he was obviously sick and tired of her. Hardly anybody outside of their group of friends knew how much that bump meant to its soon-to-be parents, neither of which felt the need to explain their decisions to people who didn't matter.
And now here she was; a month shy of eighteen and listening to Tori Vega give her speech about what a wonderful place this school was and how she would never forget all the people and the opportunities she had there and who knows what else. Her mind wanders, and she thinks about her friends and those opportunities Vega was going on about.
Andre had been accepted into one of the best music programs in the country.
Robbie had a scholarship to UCLA.
Cat scored an internship at a fashion firm.
Vega landed a record deal.
What had been made of all her dreams and aspirations? Being pregnant had blocked her out of all the final productions. She wasn't even a blink on any of the talent scout's radars. Nobody was going to waste their time and efforts on someone who might drop out of a school or deal because she'd rather stay at home changing diapers some days. Her performing days were over for the present time. So, what did she have in the end?
To everyone else: a mistake.
To her and Beck: a blessing.
"We're so lucky," he tells her after the whole ceremony is over and they're back in their apartment. "I don't think too many people will ever even get a shot at being as happy as we can be."
"They're all betting we're miserable," she reminds him, leaning her head against the sofa she's sitting in when he begins to massage her shoulders.
"Probably," he admits, before a grin tugs at his lips. "But that's only because they don't know us."
"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" she groans, hearing the taunt in his barb.
"Nope," Beck answers immediately, shifting to avoid her fists. "Especially since our baby was conceived, in part, thanks to that exquisite performance."
"Let's not forget how wasted we got the weekend after the Incident."
His eyebrows raise, and she can feel his fingers trail until they're caressing against the pressure point below her ear. "You mean that time you went to the RV with a bunch of bottles claiming we had to complete erase all memories of those Queso outfits?"
"Say 'Queso' one more time…" she threatens.
"… queso."
He doesn't really blame her when she pounces.
-.-.
She tells Beck two nights after she finds out.
By now she'd had enough time to yell and sob and cry about how unfair everything was and how she was not meant to be a mother.
She's finished bargaining with entities she doesn't believe in for it to go away and her eyes are red and swollen from all the tears she'd shed. She's missed school for two days, dragging him along with her on the first day in hopes of maximizing the few hours of normalcy they had left before both their lives were changed. For those moments, strolling on the beach and holding his hand, she's felt content and she'd been able to shove aside her news into the deepest corner of her mind.
Beck would smile at her and the sunlight would hit his sunglasses in just the right angle to make the material translucent and allow her to see his eyes before he kissed her and everything felt right.
But that time was up.
"Are you sure?" he asks after what had felt like an eternity of him staring at her.
"Of course I'm sure," she snaps, readjusting herself on his miniscule bed so that she's sitting up and leaning against the small mountain of pillows against the wall. "I wouldn't have told you if I wasn't."
He frowns, and his brows furrow in confusion. "But we always use protection."
"Yeah, well, apparently it's doing a shitty job of protecting."
"Have you," he starts, before pausing to stare at her and dropping his voice to a tentative tone. "Have you thought about what you want to do?"
The million dollar question.
"I can't have this baby," she answers immediately, fighting the ache that throbs in her chest when she watches his face fall and the pain sweep across his features. "I'm sorry, but I can't, Beck."
"But, babe," he protests immediately, leaving his place on the recliner he'd recently stuffed into his RV to sit beside her and grab onto her hands. "We have to think about this, and it could be so amazing."
"No, it wouldn't," she replies, closing her eyes and shaking her head to stop herself from being lured into his insisting ones. "I can't do this; I'm so messed up and I cannot do that."
"You're not messed up," he immediately waves off, before adding, "and you wouldn't be alone, I'd be here with you every step of the way, the way I've always been."
And he sounds so confident and sure of himself, so determined that she can somehow change everything she is around and be a mother that it makes her want to scream. Scream because she knows she doesn't want this thing growing inside of her, and cry because in the core of her heart she'd known he'd want it with the same intensity.
Couldn't he see the growing mistake? How dangerous it was to even entertain such notions?
"No," she repeats, opening her eyes so he could read the determination shining in them; so he could stop and rationalize how much hanged in the balance. "I can't do this; I don't want this."
He stops.
Beck lifts a hand to her face, caressing his thumb against her jawline and cradling the base of her neck so he could press his forehead against hers. "Just give us a try," he pleads. "We have time. Let's think about this for a few days before we decide anything. Please."
And because it's him and she's weak and she's never been able to really deny him anything in the entire time she's known him, she agrees.
At least for a few days.
-.-
Empty.
It's how it feels, really.
She's finally back from the hospital, and as she stares at her reflection on the full-length mirror all she can think about is how void she looks.
Unbalanced.
Her cheeks are still slightly fuller than usual and her chest feels heavy, but the pronounced bump on her stomach was almost completely gone. Almost; but if she was to press the material of her blouse against her skin she knows the swell of an outline would be visible.
A set of keys clank against the wooden surface of her coffee table and she tears her gaze away from the mirror, turning to find her patient lover staring at her. His entire appearance seems disheveled and exhausted, no doubt due to the past two sleepless nights, and she feels the protective instincts that'd been steadily growing inside of her for the past nine months flare with concern.
"You should get some sleep."
"We both should," he agrees, dropping his leather jacket against the sofa and emptying the contents of his pockets beside it. "Why don't you join me?"
"I'm not really tired," she murmurs, lying through her teeth. "I'll be there in a while."
"I can't remember the last time we actually slept," he notes, taking the few steps that were separating them out of the equation. He touches her shoulder and she feels her body flinch away from the contact as if he'd burnt her. "Jade."
"I'm sorry," she apologizes, and God, how many times has she done that lately? "Okay."
He places his hand on her lower back, careful to only touch her with his fingertips, and quietly guides her towards their bedroom. Beck frowns when he watches her pull out a thick woven sweater out of the closet, pulling it over her head until she looks like she's being swallowed by the material, regardless of the fact that it's the end of September and the weather is almost too hot to be tolerable. He gets the message, though: she doesn't want him near her.
She can't stand him.
-.-
She's not really sure when it happens, or why.
Maybe it's the way that Beck's always holding her hand, squeezing her fingers in reassurance any time he detects the slightest hint of panic reflected on her face. It was as if some sort of instinct had overtaken his usually laid-back persona, and instead this whole different side of him had surfaced. Like if some part of him knew that she could defend herself, but that the tiny human being developed inside of her needed him to step up.
He was trying to be a good father.
Or maybe it's the way that she notices herself changing. How, without even noticing, her actions have been redirected towards healthier decisions. How her hand would instantly drop to her stomach whenever she felt unsure or disturbed. The way in which she'd find herself staring at her reflection in the mirror, searching for any signs of growth or maturity, and the way in which she sometimes found herself consoling both.
Perhaps it was the little girl she'd run into at the park. The one with the dark brown locks and big brown eyes that reminded her of Beck's. The one that smiled at her and grabbed onto her waist when she asked for help finding her mommy. The one who forced her to see what an option could be like.
It could be everything or nothing in particular.
All that she knows is that for some unexplainable reason something inside of her changes.
She wants it.
She wants it, even though she knows she shouldn't. The simple suggestion of giving up this part of her makes her want to be sick, so much more than the pressure of knowing what would be expected of her if she was to keep it.
Her mind keeps weighing the possibilities, systematically listing every reason why she knows she would be a terrible mother. She's mean and she's bitter and she doesn't know how to comfort anyone. She has absolutely no illusions that she's been magically infused with a heavy dose of "Maternal Wisdom", but she's pretty sure that she has her own mother to blame for the failure in that department. The woman probably pissed off that Fairy enough to have damned her and any child born to their family.
Which leads her to her next point.
All those damn Mommy and Daddy issues, constantly pushing her back into the familiar corner she'd been trying to avoid all her life. Her inability to trust anyone, and her difficulty even admitting that she loved others. She doesn't know how to love; at least, not in the way that a child needed to be. Actually, she thinks she might possibly be even worse than her own parents, who at least tried, but were ultimately unable to deal with her. She knows that at least they had the excuse of not knowing what to expect, but she? She knew exactly what she could be dragging her baby into.
What she could be dragging Beck into.
Who the hell was she to make that decision?
God, she barely even ever told Beck she loved him.
What the fuck guaranteed her that she could love the baby growing inside of her?
Except, doesn't she already?
Jade thinks she must, because why else would she be standing outside of Beck's RV with tears streaming down her face like some fucking girl dealing with her first heartbreak. Her eyes are red and swollen and she feels like someone is pushing down on her chest, blocking her airway. She feels nauseous and sick and she thinks she might throw up, though the morning sickness has absolutely nothing to do with it.
It's heartbreak, plain and simple.
The door opens, and the sob chokes in her throat when she catches a glimpse of Beck's panicked and worried expression. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his home and immediately sitting her on his bed.
"What's wrong? Talk to me," he pleads, over and over, rubbing her back in circles and patting the tips of her hair in a way that he knows can calm her down.
"I'm a horrible person."
He sighs, pulling her closer to his body before burying his nose in her neck. "You're not a horrible person," he declares against her neck, tensing as he prepares his neck words. "You're just scared, and that's okay. I know why you're upset, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't try to force you to do anything you don't want to."
He pauses. "If you want to wait until later, we can do that. It's your choice. I promise."
She wonders how much it kills him to do that; to give up on something he wants so much because of the emotional chaos it's causing in her. And she knows he means it. She knows that if she told him to take her to the hospital in that instant, he'd take her and he'd hold her hand and he wouldn't hate her for it.
Because he knows her.
He knows her, and he knows that she's borderline insane. He knows she has her issues and that she's insecure and that she has trouble showing people that she loves them. He knows she has too many mood swings and too many dreams and too many ideas that pull her in every direction and that sometimes she's just lost.
And he loves her anyways.
"I'm terrified," she admits, whispering into his shoulder. "I don't know how to be a mom. I don't even know if I want to be one."
"I know, and you don't have to be one."
"But I want it," Jade finally confesses, forcing herself to admit the truth that had been clogged in her throat since the moment she'd found out.
He releases a breath as his hold tightens on her, and she thinks this might be the first time she's really seen him breathe in the last three weeks. It's like he'd been holding everything inside of him, scared she'd run for the hills if he showed even the slightest hint of weakness.
"God, please do," he pleads, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. "I swear I'll understand whatever you want to do, but please give us a chance. I'm not stupid, and I know that part of what has you so scared is me. It's how I am, and how I've been because I can be an ass, but trust me. Know that I'm always here."
"What if I have this baby and I'm a horrible mother and it hates me?"
"You won't be," he scoffs, but it's not mocking. It's like he's trying to show her that the simple notion of her being horrible at something is beyond impossible. "You'll be amazing and our baby will love you."
"How do you know that?"
"Trust me," he repeats.
For now, it's enough.
-.-
She gets up the moment she's sure he's asleep.
It's been nine days and nothing feels better; nothing feels easier.
She still can't breathe.
Jade's careful not to wake him up. She lifts the covers from around her, wishing he'd face the opposite wall instead of her body. It's a betrayal, and she knows it, but honestly, this is for him.
It's the nicest fucking thing she's ever done for anyone.
She slips on her sandals, grabs the purse she'd strategically placed beside her nightstand. Her wallet, checkbook and passport are already inside, accompanied by the sole airplane ticket. She didn't pack any clothes, but she figures it's for the best. He needs a clean break.
She's almost at the door. Just a few more steps.
"Did you really think you could sneak out in the middle of the night?"
Fucking hell.
-.-.-.-
AN: Um, blame Natalie Portman's perfection in "The Other Woman".
This is part one. It's been in my computer for a long time. I'll finish up the other half and post it soon.
Review!
-Lori