AN: Okay, new story. Here I go.
OH, and it may seem sad and boring now, but it WILL have loooooooooooooooots of Bade, cuz I'm me, and me can't resist.
Disclaimer: Victorious is not mine. Sad.
It was too bright. The lights stood out in the dark like an artificial day, which given the shady couture of the area, might have been a relief at one time. But not now. Now, the sirens burned his ears, their ringing bringing him a sense of dread rather than the sense of relief one would expect when they knew that help had arrived.
But he knew that there would be no help. There would be nothing, nothing at all. Because she was dead. Being the lover to her as he was, he had hoped. When he first saw her, he had anxiously pounded his hands over her heart, yearning and praying that some life would go back into her. That some life would go back into him. He had kissed her pale, bloodless lips, breathed his own air into her, and still she would not wake. Because she was dead.
She had not been wearing clothes. This might have proven as a distraction, once, years ago. Hell, it would have been a distraction right then, or in any other circumstance. But not in this one.
Because she was dead.
The word rang in his ears, mocking him, chiding him, making him scream, cry, anything to make it stop. But those words, that harsh reality, chimed on like the toll of a clock. Dead. Dead, dead, dead!
The paramedics arrived eventually, which brought him back to the present time. He took of his out shirt and laid it over her, feeling the paramedic's eyes on his abs. She would have hated that. But it didn't matter because she was dead, dead, dead. The put her body on a yellow stretcher, none to carefully, because everyone knew there was no longer a soul, a person, a wisp of life inside.
And Beck kissed her dead, dead lips once more, murmuring into her silken skin.
"Jade."