1.
He glances down at the girl next to him and her soft curve of a smile brings a rise to his chest.
They were at Tori's baby shower- celebrating unborn baby Jackson Harris (after Michael Jackson, Andre's idea) and Beck could only think about his future, the ring in his pocket, and as Tori cradled her pregnant stomach, all the things that love could bring.
Even if they weren't in high school anymore, if there was one thing Jade loved, it was taking the attention away from Tori. Beck got permission beforehand- not exactly in those words, of course- but he pulled her aside to make sure she was still okay with the idea (because Hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman scorned, right?)
"You still want me to do… the deed?" He lowers his voice to an inaudible whisper and exaggeratedly winks.
"Yeah, of course!" Tori replies with a grin on her face and starts to ramble, "I think it'll be a really good thing, you know… I feel a little bit bad going on and on about babies when Jade is…" Her voice trails off as she watches Jade quickly down a glass of champagne.
"When Jade's what? I know babies aren't her favorite thing, but I swear, she's really happy for you and-"
"She didn't tell you, did she?" Tori says in disbelief. She sighs and returns to her party.
That night, Beck gets down on one knee in front of Jade.
"You're my first love, Jade, and my only love… and together we've evolved into something better than we ever thought we'd be." She knows the next few words before they come, "Will you marry me?"
The downward pull of her eyes seems out of place and almost breaks his heart on the spot.
But she says yes.
2.
They fuck hard and then she turns away from him.
"You should've kissed Tori when you had the chance," she mumbles towards the dark window, twirling the ring around her finger- its presence was still foreign, and she had been trying to get used to it.
"Why would you say that?" he questions, his voice low and strong with the tiniest indication of offense.
She takes a while to respond, and Beck thinks perhaps she's fallen asleep until he puts a hand on her bare shoulder blade. She suppresses a shudder and grits her teeth as she turns to face him.
Any burden of hers felt like nothing when she was next to him. Everything except this, this catastrophic flaw of hers, the brokenness that manifested in her lower abdomen that she didn't even have a scar to show for. This general feeling of all-too-much that Beck could never, ever be able to help carry.
"Because she could give you what I can't."
He stares at her with wide, vulnerable eyes until she speaks again.
"You want kids, Beck. I know you do. I see the way you look at Jackson, and all of your little cousins, and I just never see you smile like you do when you-…"
He says softly, "Jade. It's okay. If I'm all you want…" he kisses her between her furrowed eyebrows and again beneath the slow tears coming from the corners of her eyes, "then you're all I need."
"No, Beck, you don't understand!" her voice raises, and she places a forceful hand on his chest.
"Then help me to!" The space between them fills with tension and settles heavy, "Please."
"This isn't about what I want, that doesn't even fucking matter. It's about what I can't have."
"Are you saying you…"
"Please don't be mad at me. Don't hate me."
"Jade, I'm sorry," he says sympathetically, pulling her body close, "I'm not mad at you. I am so, so sorry."
His shape covers her, hides her body from the world like bed sheets. He wraps her up as she unfolds; her steadily accumulating tears fall one by one and race to land on his waiting skin.
"You've got me here, Jade. I'm here; I'm not gonna leave you."
3.
He could never leave her, Beck thinks as Jade's eyes flutter shut. All it ever took was the steady rise and fall of her chest to make him realize that his entire world was sleeping next to him. Or the beating of her heart like a typewriter spelling his name that dusted off whatever muscle that was that laid in his ribcage. And although his craving for her never slowed and never stopped, not once had he matched up his pulse with hers and wished there were a third.
4.
At night, she second guesses everything. She sees a gold band around her finger, hears a baby's cry. She imagines an empty crib, guilt, frustration, complications, trying and trying and trying. Tiny blue and pink lines flashing like strobe lights that all mean the same thing. Most of all, she sees a kind pair of brown eyes that had never stopped loving the wrong girl.
5.
They wake up slow the next morning, although she sleeps in a bit longer than him. A dull grey light seeps through the blinds, and Beck comes in with her favorite mug and places soft kisses around her eyes until she wakes.
"You made me coffee?" She slurs, her voice gravelly and her throat aching from the wracking sobs that had escaped hours before.
He nods with soft eyes and pursed lips, and crawls back into bed with her and a mug of his own.
They spend a long time just sitting there, as silent and still as the dull and dreary morning sky.
"So do you still wanna marry me, now that you… you know?" She speaks up finally, her voice dark and head lowered.
Beck had been equally hopeful and afraid that she'd forget she ever told him. Still, he attempts to reply with humor.
"Please," he scoffs, "I think I wanna marry you even more now."
"Yeah?" she eyes him curiously as he pulls her closer, "Why's that?"
"Well, for one, we can have unprotected sex all the time. And if you do get pregnant, maybe we could turn it into a… happy accident."
"Goddamnit, Beck, you still don't get it." She lashes sharply, finding distance between them again, "There are no happy accidents. I'm not going to recover from this, ever, and you have to understand that. You can't marry me thinking that I'll be better again in a few months or that my body will ever be able to perform the basic fucking necessities of life; that's not how it works! If you're marrying me, you're marrying me, and all of my… brokenness, and the fact that I will never be able to give you children. How can you be okay with that!?"
She is broken; that much he can see in the ghost of a life reflecting in her eyes, and the way she looks at her own reflection like it's done something wrong. But he doesn't want to fix her. He doesn't want a cure.
"I just want you to be okay," he sighs as he pulls her closer and closer still, "in your own time and your own way. "
"It's unlikely," she whimpers into his shoulder.
"You'll be okay," he whispers, placing a soft kiss against her temple. "I'll never ask you for anything else but to just be okay."
6.
He doesn't keep that promise.
"Do you want kids, Jade!? Do you want a husband who'll push you into trying and finding a way to make it happen? Or do you just want to feel like you're in debt for the rest of your life!?"
It's too many questions she doesn't know the answers to.
7.
When Beck kisses her, she feels him patch up a crack in her heart where the guilt seeps in.
8.
He laughs drunkenly over his glass of whiskey, and says in a voice to their group of friends, "D'you remember when we were in high school and we were learning about reproduction, and Lane told us, 'First, you get a fish. And if you can take care of a fish, you can take care of a cat. And if you can take care of a cat, you can take care of a dog. And if you can take care of dog, that's when you know you can take care of a baby.' "
They weren't even married yet and they'd been the proud parents of eleven fish, two cats, and one dog. She wonders what he expects of her.
9.
Sometimes when he walks in the room she feels these butterflies in her stomach and she imagines it's what kicking feels like.
10.
From the day she lost her virginity until the day "I can't have a baby" turned into "I can't have a baby", her monthly cycle was always something to look forward to. Every 28 days, no earlier and no later, she'd go home with Beck, jump his bones and have some celebratory "We're not pregnant, we're not the 1% they disclaim in the condom advertisements" sex. She'd think it was ironic the way he would mutter "not yet not yet not yet" before he came.
Then her period became a mourning period. It was a cruel joke, that all her body could ever produce was blood and guilt and disappointment.
11.
In a similar type of cycle, Tori and Andre spent their lives revolving around a tiny life like a sun and moon around its world.
12.
Jade waved at a curly-haired boy on a swing from a kitchen window, who excitedly instructed her to watch what he was about to do. He landed on all fours as he jumped off the swing, and before she knew it he was red-faced and sobbing.
"I got this one," Beck says, pecking her on the cheek before grabbing a first aid kit from a cabinet above her head.
"Thanks," she replies softly as he removes his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves.
Outside, he kneels down in the grass, carelessly dirtying the knees of his pants; and the boy easily climbs onto his shoulders, sniffling and wiping away tears with dirty hands.
Jade's heart swells as he races inside, making airplane noises to make the five-year-old laugh.
Beck sets him down on the kitchen counter, where he cleans and patches up the boy's scraped knees. Jade holds his hand when he winces.
"You were brave, kiddo." She remarks when he jumps down from the counter, ruffling his curls.
"Jackson, say thank you to your Uncle Beck." Tori instructs from the living room couch. Now eight months pregnant with twins, Jade and Beck tried to do all they could to help out. Jackson does as he's told.
Jade looks longingly at Tori's pregnant-again stomach and sighs heavily before casting a sideways glance towards him. Jealously secretly runs through her veins.
Beck shoots a small, sympathetic smile in her direction, knowing what she's thinking.
I would try and try and try again if you asked me to.
But he's not going to ask. That relieves her.
Instinctively, she twirls her engagement ring around her finger to make sure it's still there. The light reflects off the diamond like a moon in orbit around a world she'll never have.
Hi everyone! :) This is for badeprompt's final round (WHICH I AM SO SAD ABOUT BECAUSE I LOVE BADEPROMPTS EVEN IF I DIDN'T ALWAYS PARTICIPATE) and my prompt was "unlikely." Cassandra always does such a fantastic job organizing them and I wanna thank her for everything! (even if I did end with something super sad and not my usual fluff)
Thanks to twitter friends for helping me with Jackson's name (esp. Lauren sorry if I killed you)