He was starting to notice how skinny she was. He grabs her wrist in a scene and he feels the bones and her pulse fluttering like a crumpled butterfly. He sees it at lunch watching her stare with longing at Cat's pizza as she looks at the water before her (only water, is that all she ever has?). She looks pale under the natural tan of her skin. He wanders past the guidance counselor's office, thinking about getting her help. He remembers that it is not his place, and that she is too proud to except help. So he walks past the office, and he watches her waste away, staring at her water. "She is smart, she'll get help soon." He thinks this far too often, over and over (but he doesn't do anything). He sees the bones where there was once flesh, and he wants to help her, but he won't. He is the one with her when her body finally shuts down. She passes out and he calls 911, because he has to finally do something. He hopes she'll make it, but he knows she won't (and it is his fault).
He speaks at her funeral, and he visits her grave every day. He never brings anything (even though he should) and he looks at a stone that shouldn't be there, at least not yet. He could have said something sooner, but he didn't. So he stares at the stone that shouldn't be there and he knows that she finally accomplished the one thing she wanted to. He knows she is bone.
A/N: I hope this doesn't suck. PLEASE DON'T FLAME! Also, if you ship TorixBeck, read seemslikeaporno's stories. They are fantastic! I don't own Victorious (yet!)