I don't own Victorious or "A Warning Sign" by Coldplay which, for those who were wondering, is where I'm stealing my chapter titles from.

It's not that Cat wasn't communicating well enough. She left signs of her emotional deterioration everywhere she went, in plain sight. But it took time for anyone to realize that she wasn't just weird, she was disturbed. It took time for someone to realize that something was amiss, but without help, it was nearly impossible for him to know what it was. And if he didn't know, he was forced to watch her fall apart without knowing how to help. So he ignored it. As long as he could.

The hallways echo every sound that's louder than a heartbeat, especially when they aren't filled with rushing students and the sound of lockers slamming.

Now, with every classroom door shut, every noisy student closed inside, Robbie felt as if the soft thud and occasional squeak of his converse on the scratched linoleum were the only sounds in the universe. His footsteps echoed between his ears, a rhythmic tap tap tap squeak tap, following him down the hall and around every turn.

The art room was at the very back end of the school, conveniently shoved out of everyone's way. For a school that was supposed to focus on the arts as a whole, they paid an awful lot of attention to music and theatre, and chose to ignore the visual arts.

Despite the repression of the visual arts community, the art room itself was not to be tampered with. A floor to ceiling window, kept spotless by 30 art students with windex at the end of each class, bathed the entire room in a warm yellow light year-round. Color coded drawers were filled to the brim and beyond with scrap fabric, feathers, sequins, elastic, lace, and magazine clippings. Pyramids of paint cans and rubber cement lined the walls that had been expertly painted a smooth, pale blue color by none other than Ms. Gardner, aka. Sarah, the revered art teacher.

In other words, it was Robbie's sanctuary.

After traveling through most of the hallways as soundlessly as possible, mostly just walking on the sides of his feet, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw the double doors that concealed the art room.

He pushed the door open and was greeted with warm air and sunlight streaming in through the giant window. Cat was sitting with her back to it and the light was making her dark red hair glow around the edges like a bizarre halo. The rest of the class was busy working on creating something based on the theme of the day.

"Hey." Robbie said, walking over to where she was perched on a bar stool, intently sketching away with a stick of charcoal. She looked up at the sound of his voice and her eyes widened, as did the smile on her face. There is seriously nothing that makes you feel better than when you can tell someone is happy to see you. It's like chugging an entire mug of hot cocoa. Okay, that was a little strange. Forget I said it.

"Hi Robbie! Here. I saved you a piece of paper. Sarah passed them out but you weren't here." She handed him a thick piece of paper as he pulled a stool closer to her.

"Oh, thanks. That's really sweet of you." he said. Robbie picked up a pencil and started sketching. Long curved lines traveled around his paper, creating a foreign and abstract motion and a sense of unity, all while staying stiffly sketched on to his watercolor paper.

"What are you going to paint?" she asked, propping herself up with her elbows and leaning over to see his sheet of paper. It didn't mater though. He could have painted a stick figure and she would have regarded it as the next Mona Lisa. Robbie shrugged and put the pencil down.

"I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out as I go. What are you drawing?" he asked, peering over her shoulder.

"A cat! Get it? Because my name is Cat?" she clarified, sliding her paper across so that it was in plain sight. Robbie laughed and looked down at her drawing of a cat, but he was terrified by what was on the paper. Where the cat's face should have been was a smeared lump of black and a shade of pink that looked repulsively close to flesh. It looked as if someone had torched away the face completely, leaving behind only a charred stub.

"Wait, what happened to it's face?" he asked, turning away and blinking, trying to clear his head of the image that was burned into his mind

"What's wrong with his face?" she asked with a hint of sadness. Robbie didn't see how she couldn't know what he meant. She's lucky he had a strong stomach.

"Nothing, it's just, kind of, melted and...creepy looking." he tried to explain.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her face held the look that told him that she didn't understand and he had completely insulted her. It was happening less and less often, but he still had no control over her strange mood swings. He back-peddaled and tried to come up with something to get her to forget.

"Nothing! It's a really nice drawing. It's just a little bit dark." Her face shifted into a grin.

"Well of course it's dark, silly. I'm using charcoal."

Robbie rolled his eyes and smiled. "You're right. What was I thinking. Hey, what's the theme today?" he asked, trying to deflect her attention to something positive.

"Dreams." she said. There was something about Cat's voice. It was weird, but Robbie could actually hear the smile on her face when she spoke.

"Oh, okay. Cool. I'll be right back. I'm going to get watercolors." He stood up and she turned around to face him again, sporting her trademark smile with a dimple on her left cheek.

"Ooh, can you get me some, too?" she asked, blinking her big brown eyes when they met his.

"Of course."

The supply cart was a mess and it always had at least five students flocking around it. He must have stood there for nearly half of the period, digging his way through watercolor trays and paintbrushes. When he returned, Cat had drawn the rest of her cat. Robbie didn't get a close look, but other than an unnaturally long tail that coiled up like a butterfly's tongue, there was nothing else too abnormal about it.

"What are you going to paint?" she asked, dipping her paint brush in the blue and watering it down before swirling a cloudy blue color in the corner of her paper.

"I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out as I go." he replied. He rinsed off his brush tip and reached for the black, planning to tint the white he had left.

"I like your cotton candy."

"Thanks. It's supposed to be a cloud, but I guess I could put some pink in, just for you."

Cat blushed and wiped the tip of her brush on a towel. "Aww, thanks! I had a dream like that once. Except my charcoal cat was there."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And then my brother showed up and started cutting him up. It looked really cool."

"He cut up the melty cat?" Robbie asked, not able to keep his face from reflecting his disgust.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"And it was 'cool'?"

"You're a terrible listener, you know?"

"Never mind." he said, turning back to his cotton candy clouds.

He realized that there was something was wrong, but there's a difference between knowing that there is a problem and knowing what the problem is. But that couldn't happen yet. She needed to emit more harmful radiation before it would click, but don't worry. It will click. Eventualy. But what's it going to take?

Thanks for reading this! Let me know what you thought by dropping me a review! The next chapter should be up within the next couple of days so stay tuned.