Hi, this is just a one shot. Don't mind it. My name is not Dan Schneider and I do not own Victorious. Kind of AU/ REALLY OOC I'm sure. This was just written to get the idea out of my head and onto paper. Reviews are like cocaine, give me some and I'll sniff them up.

You two had been inseparable since you were toddlers, running around his backyard, holding hands, in nothing but your diapers. You're pretty sure you were in love with him then, too. As the years passed, you stayed just as close as ever, but you'd both changed. You grew out of your awkward preteen days of braces and love of math, but he never did. You became popular and had girls flocking at your door, he never did.

You stayed by one another's' sides throughout the years ; when he was being bullied in junior high, when you broke up with your Goth high school sweetheart, and you eventually roomed together in college. You couldn't imagine your life without him.

He wasn't your boyfriend; you hadn't had sex, but you'd come close. Once, after you'd both been drinking, he crawled into bed next to you and you let him. You could feel his erection grazing against the back of your thigh, triggering your own member to react. You'd reached over and grabbed him. He did the same to you, you both began pumping and moaning and then you lost it. You'd loved him for so long and you both were wasted that it just had happened. He crawled back into his bed without a word and you hadn't talked about it.

You began noticing bruises on him. He said that they were nothing; you said that you were worried. He reluctantly let you take him to the doctor's office. You waited faithfully in the waiting room, like a puppy, reading ten year old Reader's Digests and listening to Enya over the speakers. He came out with a pale face, muttering something about tests needing to be taken.

You went back with him for the next week, actually going into the examination rooms with him. You were there when they told him that he was sick, you were there to hold him, and you wiped away his tears. You told him that everything was going to be okay, that the doctors were going to fix him. He told you to stop being such a fucking liar, through angry tears.

Months went by and you still never left his side. You were there for his good days and his bad. You were there for his treatment sessions. You were there to take care of him when he was bedridden.

You walked in the apartment one day to the sound of an electric buzzing sound. You ran to the bathroom, expecting the worst. Instead, with a shaking hand, he was shaving off his curly brown locks. You held him as you both watched them fall to the floor. You kissed him on the forehead and he gripped you so hard that you were sure you'd have marks.

You were there when he was collapsed on the ground, barely being able to move. You were the one who called the ambulance. You clasped his hand on the ride to the hospital. You watched him those weeks in the ICU, when he was at his weakest.

You were the last one to see him alive, his parents leaving the room so that you, his oldest friend, his constant companion could have a moment with him.

You told him that you loved him; he nodded and told you that he knew. This time you were the weak one, you were the one who cried. You held his hand one last time, for hours. You'd fallen asleep and woke up to the Robbie that you knew. He looked so strong when he left, so beautiful.

A/N: I don't know what I think about this, but like I said, I had to get the idea outta my head. Tell me what you think.