A/N: I know I haven't updated on any of my Victorious fics since last year, but... :P
No, this is just a little thing for you to read while I write Catching Up Is Hard To Do/DFD
Beck Oliver, widower. He stands, staring at the mantelpiece, his jaw working hard, grappling for the rights words to say, but nothing comes out, just stammering. No-one is here, her voice whispers coldly, so you don't have to pretend you miss me anymore.
And before he knows what he's doing, the photo of him and Jade on their wedding day is down by his feet, smashed into a million tiny shards of lost hopes, forgotten dreams, broken hearts. He puts his hand over his mouth, takes a breath, and bends, ready to clear up the glass that scattered across the wooden floor.
Cutting his hands on the glass but barely noticing, Beck throws the frame away, bitterly throwing the black bag to the corner of the room. And then he hears the crying. The tiny, woeful crying that pierces his heart and mists his eyes, the cries that break his already shattered heart. The cries of his tiny baby daughter.
Beck's limbs feel heavy as he walks into the nursery Jade had so lovingly painted, purple and black on the walls and the furnishings, the baby's initials painted in purple, black, purple. Allison Arielle Oliver.
Beck picks up the red, mottled baby, and cradles her gently. "Sh. Shh. Yes, darling, I want Mommy, too." You think she'll remember me? Think again, Jade trills, a shrill laugh added for good measure at the end. "Allison, there there." Beck pauses, angry. "You should be here, Jade, and then she wouldn't have to live her life without a mother. A girl needs her Mom."
You're girly enough. And he sees that invisible shrug on the end, before returning his attention to his little girl. "Your Mommy's just being silly. You'll know about her, soon. You should know about her now. You should be in her arms, and she should be in mine. But she's not. You'll know why when you're older."
With that thought, Beck grabs a pen, paper, and starts to write.
This is the story of a girl, who cried a river and drowned the whole world. And while she looks so sad in photographs, I absolutely love her when she smiles.
In other words, Jadelyn West.
In more other words, my wife.
In the most other words, your mother.
In the best words, perfect.
High school is where it all started. I asked her if she'd go out with me. She said yes. Simple, right? Nothing was ever simple with Jade, oh no. Everything had to have some drama surrounding it. Surrounding her.
We dated for three years, and then Tori came along and ruined it. Jade hated Tori. At least, she pretended to. And then we broke up. Yes, it was that simple. Sounds silly, but I loved her then. And she loved me. So, we got back together. I was so happy. I think Jade was, too. So in the end...Tori brought us back together.
After two years of happy dating and finishing off high school, we bought an apartment together. It was small - one bedroom, one bathroom, a small lounge. That's how we liked it, being in each other's pockets. We got jobs - I was an actor, she was a director.
I proposed, and she said yes, of course. She even squealed. Yes, your goth, hating everything under the sun, dark mother squealed. And I was so happy, I cried. It wasn't a big ceremony, though it was in a church. Jade's parents insisted their little girl would have a legitimate marriage, to a handsome boy they approved of. Thankfully, I was approved of. So we got hitched.
The wedding present from our parents? A house. A huge house! Jade was so excited, she ran into the rooms and made me carry her over the threshold. I obliged, quite happily. She was my Jade and she belonged in my arms, after all. She pouted and asked if I'd ever do that for another girl. I shrugged and nodded.
"Probably," I said, and she looked crushed.
"Who?" I looked puzzled at her.
"Why, our little girl, when we have one." Jade looked down at her shoes and blushed, tinging pink, relief flooding through her. Of course, I wasn't sure Jade even wanted kids, but I did. I loved the idea of a big family - but you're enough for me, Alli. You're plenty. I love you so much.
I asked her one day and she paused mid breath, her throat making a little noise as her breath hitched. She closed her eyes. It was funny, seeing her speechless. She never seems - seemed, I mean - to run out of things to say. And then a sickly sweet smile spread across her face, and she looked queasy.
"Do you?"
"I asked you first. But yes."
"That's nice. Well, I suppose now's the right time to tell you. I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a Dad."
And with that, Jade went to bed. I smiled and went after her, and we slept peacefully. The next nine months went without a hitch, and soon, you were here. A month early, but here and well and breathing fine. But your Mama...she was terrified for you, and wouldn't believe me when I said you were fine.
"Babe, she's fine. Perfect!" Jade just nodded and demanded to be taken there.
It all went downhill from there.
Not from you, baby. Not from you. Just from that date. It has nothing to do with you.
"It's gonna be fine, Jade, you'll wake up feeling better tomorrow," I'd say, every morning, kissing her goodbye and running out the door. There was another mouth to feed. Jade shrank away from my kisses. I shouldn't have promised that, because she got angry at me. She yelled. She threw things, not at me, but at the wall. She threw things screaming and crying and I'd wait it out, but it just got worse. Life was making her miserable. She only found sadness, tears, heartache in every road she tried.
So she kissed you goodbye, and she kissed me goodbye, and she went into the bathroom. I got into bed, put a towel in the dryer to keep it warm for her when she came out. But she never did.
She took her own life because it meant nothing to her. But don't ever think we didn't mean anything to her. We meant everything to her.
It was slow, painful, messy, and dramatic. It was your mother, Allison. There were no mistakes in the choices she made. Except leaving us.
And I know, one day, that this sadness will not lessen, but I will learn to deal with it.
I know one day your smile will lessen my pain.
I cannot wait to see your smile, because it will be so much like your mother's. But you are your own person. I love you, baby. Always remember.
And while she looked so sad in photographs, I absolutely loved her...when she smiled.
"I hope you're reading this, Jade," Beck mutters, sealing the envelope.
Oh, please. I knew what you'd write before you wrote it. Beck cradles his tiny daughter in his arms and reads the letter. With the release of his feelings, he feels lighter. Not by much, and the feeling of having cinder blocks on his legs and arms remained, but it lessened.
"I love you, Jade. I always will."
I know.