A/N: Here's my entry for the Worldwide Day of Bade. I was going to write something beautiful, and then this happened when I found out Victorious was getting cancelled. I don't know. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

September

It was November when she walked down the aisle, clad in a black wedding dress that she just had to have because white was too mainstream. He was there instead, waiting for her at the end near the pulpit, clad in a white tux. Their eyes locked on one another's as they spoke their vows, exchanged rings, and connected their lips in the most memorable of all of their kisses, becoming as one. She stole his last name, and he stole her heart.

It was December when he enlisted. He wanted nothing more than to prove that he could be a compassionate man for his country, regardless of the fact of his Canadian birth. Home was where his heart was, and that was right there in the United States. He went down to the building, signed off on the paperwork, and made his way home, trying to find a way to break the news to his newly wedded wife. He hoped she wouldn't be angry. And she wasn't. Instead of threatening him or starting a screaming match, she simply wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered three simple words. "I love you."

It was January when he left, just after New Year's. She knew it was something he wanted to do, but it didn't seem realistic to her. She drove him to the airport, trying her best to stay strong. He sat beside her, shotgun, in pure silence, his suitcase in the backseat. There was no way out for what he signed up to do. His beloved, lush locks were now finely shaved into a daunt crew cut. She had no words for what was happening and how life was changing right before her very eyes. She pulled into departures, parked the car, and stepped outside into the cool, winter, California air. He followed in suit, grabbed his travel bag, and joined her by her side, grabbing her pale, delicate hand. She clung tightly to his strong, tanned hand and walked with him all the way to his gate. She sat beside him in his departing gate, not once letting go of his hand, for she feared that he would slip away from her if she did. When they began to board, he stood up and grabbed her by the waist, kissing her fiercely with a newfound passion. Her lips felt so cool and gentle, his so warm and loving. She saw fireworks as her arms snaked around his neck, and he saw nothing but the two of them in the airport. She pulled him closer, but he only pulled away in response.

"I've gotta go, love. It's time…" he mumbled softly, looking directly into her blue-gray eyes. He could see the pain in them, and she could feel the tears springing forth. She pulled him in for one more quick, but lingering kiss and he accepted it eagerly, unwilling to break away for the second time. But he had to. And he did. She slowly let go of his neck.

"Bye. Please come home to me. And write as much as you can," she whispered almost inaudibly, trying to keep up the brave face for him.

"I will. I promise. And I love you, Jadelyn." He turned away from her, got in line, handed his boarding pass to the lady waiting at the turnstile, and took one last look back at his lover before stepping into the walkway to board his flight. She watched his plane take off, the tears finally flowing freely down her face.

It was February when the vomiting began. She was rather confused, for she rarely became ill. But as she leaned over the porcelain toilet bowl for the fifth time that week, she began to become doubtful if she was really sick. She stared downwards in disbelief, her hand coming to a gentle rest upon her stomach. Just to be certain, she got into her car, drove to the nearest drugstore, purchased a box of pregnancy strips, and hurried home as swiftly as she could to take one. The first thing she did when she arrived back at the house was rush up to the bathroom. The wait was agonizing, but after a few minutes, the result was finally in. Staring blankly at the pink plus sign, she didn't know what to think. With him in Afghanistan, how was she supposed to manage a baby alone? Her hand came to rest once again on her stomach, her mind reeling. She went off to the bedroom the two had once shared, curled up into a tight ball on his side of the bed (she swore his scent still lingered on his pillowcase), and simply stayed there, crying. Not because she was pregnant, but because he couldn't be there to share this moment with her.

It was March when she finally received her first letter from him. She eagerly opened it with trembling fingertips and tried to remain calm. After all of the letters she faithfully sent, she was finally receiving one in return. She knew he was busy, and she doubted he received most of her letters, in a timely fashion to say the least, but now she had some closure that he was, albeit, safe and sound. She began to read the note that was written so perfectly in his messy scrawl.

My dearest Jade,

You know I'm not a man of many words, but when I sat down to write this, I just couldn't stop everything from just pouring out. Let me first just say, I miss you more than I'd ever think was possible. I just want to hold you tightly in my arms again and never let you go. The things I would give to kiss your lips again... I didn't think it was possible to miss someone as much as I miss you, but now I know.

Some nights, I feel so lonely, and I step outside to look up at the stars. And I know that you can see the same stars that I'm looking up at. It leaves me happy knowing that home is closer than it seems. I just can't wait to get home this Christmas. I'm already counting down the days.

I want you to know that I've received each and every one of your letters, and I can only hope that you receive this one in response. The mail system's a bit sketchy over here.

When I received the little pink plus sign, I almost jumped for joy, Jade. I told all of the guys who have already become like brothers to me. They're so happy for us. And I just can't wait to come home and hold our baby boy or girl in my arms. It won't be too long, babe, and everything will be perfect for us again. Until then, just be careful and take good care of yourself.

I want you to know that I'm just fine here. Though I miss you immensely, I feel pretty safe and comfortable. Training taught me so much, and you'd never believe how well protected it actually is here. You've got nothing to worry about. I genuinely feel like I'm making a difference. And it feels so good, Jade.

I'll keep writing when I can, and I'm going to keep my promise of coming home to you. I love you so much. Never forget that. Talk to you soon.

Love you,

Beck

Attached to the letter was a photo of him, clad in his uniform. At that moment, he was no longer the ambitious high school actor that she always saw him as. He was so much more. He was a brave, confident soldier, seeming so fearless, like nothing could slow him down. She clutched the photograph to her heart and sighed softly, her mind at last coming to rest, knowing that he was perfectly okay.

It was April when he had his first encounter with the enemy. Most of the time he was stationed along the base, but now he was finally engaging in combat. The time was mainly spent sitting, crouched down in his bunker, clutching tightly to his gun. He thought it was so dull doing nothing; however he immediately regretted ever feeling that way when he saw what the battle zone was actually like. Being shot at was far from exciting, and it was nothing like training. The bullets were whizzing past his head left and right, and he dodged them as he was trained to. He returned fire once he was given the command, his body tense, and his face devoid of all emotion. And then it happened. One of the guys he had felt closest to was shot at, but he couldn't avoid the oncoming bullet. Straight into the throat, the bullet pierced his flesh. He left his post and ran to his friend, dodging more bullets from the ambush. "Chris. Hang on, man! Don't leave us. I'll get you help, just stay with me." His friend barely managed a groan as he coughed up blood. He lifted his close companion into his arms and started to run. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him, all the way to a safer area. He was going to get his "brother" help before he bled out, but he had already gone motionless. He set him down with a heavy heart, finally allowing himself to express the most emotion he ever had in his lifetime. He broke down in tears, not only for the loss of his best friend, but also as a way of thankfulness that he had made it out alive. Watching his best friend die before his eyes was certainly something Beckett Oliver would never forget.

It was May when the baby began to kick her, and she was growing quite attached. At the fifth month into her pregnancy, she could not have been any happier. With him being gone, it seemed like one of the only sources of comfort that she had anymore. She would rest her hand on her visibly pregnant stomach and smile to herself as she would feel the gentle kicks against her palm. That would be the only reminder that she wasn't completely alone, and that a part of him was still there inside of her. She could envision the baby's birth, and though she knew he wouldn't be there for it, she was still satisfied, because she imagined the baby looking like a perfect mix of the two of them. With proud eyes, she would look down at the beautiful child in her arms and love it more than anything in the world, with the exception of him, of course. She would shake her head at the glimpse into the future and look forward to the day it would come.

It was June when he had the opportunity to call her. It was going to be the first time he had heard her voice in months, and he could not have been more excited than he was now. He quickly dialed her number and waited for the call to connect. He heard the steady ring and then the click of the phone line being picked up, a noise he was aching to hear.

"Hello?" she said into the phone, not recognizing the number that was calling her.

"Hi, love," he breathed out, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Just the sound of her angelic voice alone was once to send him into a universe of nostalgia.

"Beck? Oh my God. How are you?" She was startled to hear his voice, and she always hated surprises, but this was one surprise that made her the happiest woman in the world.

"I'm fine, Jade. Tired, but fine. I'm still alright here. But missing you like crazy. More importantly, how're you and our little bundle of joy doing?"

"I'm exhausted. And he's such a strong and healthy baby. I love him already. Since you're on the phone, we should come up with names." She heard him draw in a breath as she announced that it was a boy and smiled to herself.

"He? Him? You found out the gender? Oh love, that's terrific! A baby boy, huh? Well, what do you have in mind?" he asked her, his voice hinting at his obvious enthusiasm.

"I'm guessing you haven't received my letters yet. I'm sure you will soon enough." Her face fell in slight disappointment, but she pushed that aside because talking to him was certainly better than writing. "I really love the name Caden."

"Caden is a great name, Jade. I also like the name Michael. What do you think of Caden Michael Oliver?" He wasn't sure whether or not she would agree, but he was pleasantly surprised with her response.

"Caden Michael Oliver is perfect. He's going to be one amazing little boy, especially with such a wonderful father like yourself," she said softly, her voice swelling with pride for the man she had married.

"I think he'll owe all of the 'amazingness' to you, love. You're going to be an incredible mother." She heard some talking in the background after he finished speaking and she chewed on her lower lip. "Jade, baby? I need to go..." The disappointment in his voice was perfectly clear to her.

"It's alright. I understand. Talk to you soon?" Her face fell and her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, knowing that she probably wouldn't hear from him like this for awhile.

"Talk to you soon," he agreed. "And, baby?"

"Mm?" she mumbled.

"I love you and Caden Michael so much."

"We love you too." She heard a click of the line, and just like that, he was gone.

It was July when he'd been issued to another part of the country. He was going to be stationed on a new base and would be handling more combat. He was terrified, but he would never own up to that, because he was supposed to be fearless. He immediately wrote a note to her and hoped that she would receive it as soon as possible. Things were really violent in this area, and he needed to find a touch of comfort to keep him going strong. He wasn't sure what to think anymore, and he was just hoping beyond belief that he would be able to keep his promise to her.

It was August when she finally received his letter. At eight months pregnant, she hoped it was a letter telling her that he wanted pictures of the baby as soon as he was born. She opened it with a wide smile, but soon had a change of heart as she read his words to her. Her face fell, but not once did she lose hope.

Dear Jade,

I'm writing to let you know that I'm being moved to a different part of the country. Where I'm going to be stationed...it's really bad. This is the part of the country that you almost always see on the news. I can't begin to describe what's ahead of me. I'm really worried. I just needed to tell someone how afraid I am, and you seemed like the perfect person. You would be the one person who would be able to talk some sense into me. I shouldn't be worried, right? Everything is usually fine. I mean, this is what I was trained to do, isn't it? You can write to me at the new address on the envelope; that's where I'll be sending this letter from when I get there. I'm sorry to keep this so brief, but I've got to pack up my stuff. I love you.

Beck

She had let the letter fall from her fingers and buried her face into her hands. She didn't cry, no her tear ducts were dried out. Instead she just swallowed harshly and hoped for the best. She knew he was strong and brave. Everything would be alright. He needed some assurance. And she was going to give it to him. She sat herself down and began to write him the most comforting of words she could possibly think of.

It was September when her water broke and the baby was on his way. Her parents rushed her to the maternity ward and within nine hours after going into labor, she was ready to have their son. She pushed and pushed until he was finally free. And once he was checked out and cleaned off, the doctor handed him to her, informing her that he was perfectly healthy. She cradled him in her arms and looked down at his tiny, sleeping form. Just as she had hoped, he was a spitting image of the two of them. He had her eyes and nose, his lips. The baby's skin color was a perfectly blended tone of her pale and his tanned composure, almost like coffee with cream. She kissed his little forehead and held him close to her heart, not once taking her gaze off of him as he slumbered in her arms.

Likewise, it was September when it happened. It was the last thing he had expected being on the base. He was writing another letter to his beloved wife, knowing that his son would be making an appearance in the world at any day. Their base was attacked, and nobody saw it coming. An airstrike rained down on them, the barracks being the first to get hit. He tried his best to escape the explosions. He took cover. But the explosions were too massive to hide from. They found his body not too far from the rubble that remained of the base. Never again would he tell her that he loved her. And his promise was broken. Just as Caden had entered the world, Beckett had left it.

It was still September when she received the final letter. She opened it eagerly, expecting warm wishes from him, written in his sloppy scroll. Instead of finding his handwriting, though, she found a short, typewritten note. She furrowed her brows in confusion, and then began to read.

ATTN: Jadelyn August West-Oliver,

We are horribly regretful in informing you of the loss of your husband, Beckett James Oliver. He was lost to an air raid at the base he was encamped at. We will be honorably transporting his casket home to you, and will provide you with comfort and compensation for you loss.

We are sincerely sorry, and we're keeping you and the rest of those grieving in our hearts.

Sincerely,

General Marcks, U.S. Army

The tears sprang into her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from falling, nor did she want to. He didn't keep his promise to her. He was never coming back. He would never tell her that he loved her again. She would never fall asleep in his arms again. He was coming home to her, but not in the way she wanted him to. He would never meet his son. She pressed her back against the wall and slid down to the floor, bringing her knees to her chest. She trembled as the tears continued to fall and sobs wracked her form. And right then, Caden began to cry. It was as if he knew what was happening. She headed off to the nursery and picked him up, rocking him gently, both mother and son crying together.

Here lies Beckett James Oliver, loving son, husband, and father.

May his spirit live on forever in those who surrounded him.

October 18th, 1995 – September 23rd, 2019

It was in September, five years down the line, when she stood in the cemetery, clutching tightly to her son's hand. He looked up at her with his blue-gray eyes and spoke lovingly as she cried. He had his father's personality. "Mommy, don't worry. Daddy's looking at us and smiling." He squeezed her hand softly.

She picked him up and smiled through her tears, giving him a kiss on his cheek. "You're most definitely right, sweetie." She set him down and whispered almost inaudibly, "I'll always love you, Beckett."

And at that moment through the gentle autumn breeze that blew, marking the fifth anniversary of his death, she swore she heard his voice, as soothing as she remembered it. "And I'll always love you, Jadelyn."

A/N: So yeah. Reviews would be nice. Crying in my weeping corner now.