Disclaimer: I wonder who invented Frisbees? Why did they call it a Frisbee? Was it someone called Frisbee? Well, whoever it was, they, like me, do not own Victorious.

I motion to Beck, and he rolls his eyes, putting his phone up to his ear. "Hey, it's me."

I scoot closer to Beck, trying to hear. It's a subconscious thing, I know I won't be able to hear, but I want to, I need to. Even though he just broke up with Tori, Beck's still closer to her than I am, he'll still be able to get more out of her than I can. Some people don't appreciate bluntness.

"Is she with Cat?" I whisper, Beck waving a hand at me.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just at home. How are you?"

This is not the time for small talk. Why do people even bother with it? It takes so long to get to anything important, anything real. I know what the weather is like, thanks, and I don't really care about how you are. I've never done it, there's no point in it, and I stare at Beck until he gets it.

"Are you with Cat?" He listens intently, nodding, and I feel like telling him that Tori can't see him. He catches it in my annoyed glance and stops. "So you are with Cat." Beck says, looking at me. "How is she?" His dark, thick eyebrows furrow, lines appearing in his forehead, eyes flicking away from me. "Oh." He purses his pale pink lips, compressing them to a thin line, an intent expression on his face. "She... she is?"

I chew my lip nervously, and my hands feel so useless, touching the dull red comforter, touching on my knee, each other. It's like the butterflies have escaped my stomach and moved to my hands.

Beck's eyes flick back to me, and they're dark, and serious. "Look, Jade's here, and- you didn't ask, that's why. Is.. is that Cat?"

It's so frustrating, hearing just one side of the conversation, knowing that... that Tori's with Cat, doing what I should be... what I've lost the right to do. And maybe that's why my hands are so nervous; they know where they should be, what they should be doing, and they're frustrated that they can't. They want to be holding Cat, that's their job, and they've just been fired. I fold them in my lap, keeping them still.

"You're gonna spend the night with her? Good. She's... she said that? No, I don't know what she's talking about." Beck's eyes widen, his eyebrows shooting up. That's not a good sign, not at all, and I still my twitching hands, clenching them around each other. "Okay... I'll catch you later." He takes the phone away from his ear, staring at it with a sigh.

I try to quell my impatience, but my hands burst free, clenching the comforter. "What'd she say? Is Cat okay?"

Beck's fingers curl around his phone, and he looks up at me, a cautious curiosity in his eyes. "No, she's not. She's just... Tori said she's just lying there. Tori's... she's pretty angry at you, Jade."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever, I can take Vega. What... what did Cat say?"

Beck licks his lips, jaw working, and his eyes have an edge to them, the irises almost black in this light, pupils invisible against them. "She said it was happening again."

A muscle in my cheek twitches, and I lean back. At least... at least nothing's happened to her. At least Tori is with her. It should be me, I should be there. "It is happening again." I murmur softly, fingers toying with a hole in my worn, black shirt, picking apart the threads. And my jeans are too tight, the waistband slicing into my belly and making my breath short, and I sit so it presses harder, so it hurts more. I shouldn't be able to breathe properly. I should be suffering. I should have a reminder that's Cat's gone, and I wince, the button digging into me.

Beck's eyebrows meet over the bridge of his nose, as he notices my wince, his face tightening, tan skin oddly pale in the light of his RV. "Jade... what's happening again? What's going on?" His hand grabs my wrist from where I've touched it to my stomach, my body wanting to ease my discomfort, even if my mind doesn't.

I smile sadly, shaking my head. "None of you know Cat. None of you. You have no idea what she's been through."

"Then tell me." Beck says softly, his eyes burning into me.

"I can't. Do you know how fucked up it was that I was the one to find out? I didn't even like her, Beck. I wasn't one of her 'friends'. How can you not see it? How can Tori not see it?" My voice grows in volume, outraged, and I shrug his grip off me.

"How can we not see what?"

I stare at him in disbelief. "How broken she is."

Beck pulls his feet up onto the bed, pushing the sleeves of his red plaid shirt up and resting his hands on his knees. "She's an actor, Jade... we all are. You learn how to put on a face. Cat... Cat just did it better, I guess."

I stand, pacing across Beck's brown, shaggy carpet, little bits of grit against my toes. "I don't know what to do here Beck. I don't know how to get her back."

Beck raises an eyebrow. "And considering how well your last plan went..."

"Beck, this is serious. She can't be without me, and I... I..."

Beck scoots forward, pushing himself off the bed and drawing me into a hug. And it feels so safe, being in his arms. It's always calmed me, always soothed me, and he smells like clean cotton and his aftershave, and just him. "Hey, it's okay. We'll think of something." He pulls back a little, a smile on his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I can see the sadness there. "Who wouldn't want you?"

I press my face into his chest, into the wrinkled red plaid, inhaling deeply, and things feel still for a moment. It's a smell that's so familiar, it's a smell that's so comforting. It's him, he's an anchor, and he's holding me calm in this storm, he's stopping me from pacing and thinking and doing something stupid. But he's also stopping me from going after Cat, and I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

I push him away, stepping back. "Thanks for... for being here, Beck. I should go. Go home and get some sleep or something." I shrug wearily.

Beck licks his lips, looking at me curiously. "Why don't you stay?" He senses my hesitance, moving closer, his hands warm and gentle on my shoulders. "We'll watch a movie. And we might think of something."

"Beck..." As much as I love this feeling, as much as I love this security, the fact is; I don't love Beck anymore.

He smiles softly, that crooked, sincere smile where one side of his mouth tugs a little higher than the other, and I feel my resolve waver. "For old time's sake." He takes his hands off me, holding them up and backing away, boyish smile still on his face. "Nothing weird."

I can't be alone, I've never been able to be alone, and what he's offering... I'm weak. I don't love him, but things with him are easy, they're simple, and drama free, and things with Cat, as much as I love her, aren't. They're hard, and right now... they're non-existent. I don't want Beck, he isn't what my heart wants, but it's what it's used to. And while Beck's too much of a gentleman to try anything, I'm a little scared of me. That Jade is still in me, the one who took the path of least resistance, and it knows Beck wouldn't resist at all. This... it needs to be platonic, and I'm terrified there'll be a moment when I'll look over at him and forget about Cat, when I'll take the easy way out.

I just want someone to comfort me, to stroke my hair and tell me things'll be okay, and I'm too old for my parents to do that anymore. I need someone to say those words so I can believe them, even if in my heart, I know they're lying. I don't want to forget about Cat, I don't want to give in, but I can't spend the rest of night alone, pacing, sitting, tearing my hair out, finding some way to punish myself unless I've debased myself so much that I'm sure she'd never want me back. And if she was here I could do this, if I had some reminder of her that was always in front of me, that my brain could never forget, then I could resist. An idea sparks in my brain, and I nod to Beck. "Okay."

I cross to where he keeps his movies, pulling the drawer out and scanning the titles. And I'm scared for a moment that it might not be here, that I might have to go home and spend the night staring at myself in the mirror until the monster I see goes away. And then I find it, and I can't help but think it's a sign.

I pull out the old VHS tape, Beck watching curiously as I move to his TV, kneeling down in front of it and shoving the tape in his VHS player, machine humming. I never knew why he still kept it, but I'm so glad he did. This will keep my mind on Cat, where it should be, this will remind me why I should be fighting for her, why I shouldn't just sink back into Beck's arms. It'll make me remember how much I love her, and it'll send all those memories flooding back, because they've already become so distant, I've already numbed so much of myself. I've already forgotten.

The screen flickers, the movie starting, and I crawl onto Beck's bed, lying on my stomach, hands propping my chin up as I watch the screen, Beck joining me and leaning back against the wall, his feet near my hands. And watching this with him is a mix of what's safe and familiar, and what makes my heart beat fast and my hands sweat, and the memories are mixing together, merging, but it's Cat who's in my mind. It's her face I see in my head, and I try to remember her smiling, the little mental snapshots I took of her, the times when I told my brain to remember this, and I feel the same way I did then, and it's incomparable to anything else. It's the reason why I can't just let her go. Why I have to ignore what I want, for what I need. And I need her. I'm not me without her.

"So what'd you pick?" Beck's voice rumbles behind me, slow and calm, and I can feel his hand on the back of my knee, just resting, and it's comfortable. It anchors me.

"Beauty And The Beast."

A/N: I know, another chapter of inaction. But it's like baking a cake. First, you have to mix together all the ingredients, and then, you have to put it in the oven, and then, while it's baking, you drink a bottle of wine and pass out, and then you wake up surrounded by fire fighters, and then you go buy a cake.

My point here, assuming I had one, is that all good things take time. And alcohol.

And cake.

So please review, and I'll get out my whiskey and a clock, and make drunken time pass.

Write more, is what I'm saying.