Point of View

by Mileycfan4eva

Cat and Jade have lived under public scrutiny for years, but nothing has prepared them for the hellfire of a cousin's vengeance. Will their relationship be able to handle the strain? Crossover with SVU characters.

14. Chapter 14

Fandom: victorious

Title: Point of View

Chapter Fourteen: Noah's Time to Shine

Point of View: Cat Valentine

"Break of day, the dawn is here

Johnny's up and pacing

Compromise, or persevere

His mind is racing

Johnny has no guide

Johnny wants to hide

Can he make a mark,

If he gives up his spark?

Johnny can't decide.

Susan longs to live by the sea,

She's through with the competition

Susan wants a family

Johnny's got a tough decision

Johnny has no guide."

"He's pretty amazing, isn't he, Cat?" The lights in the living room resemble the bright and powerful brightness of those used on stages. Noah moves gracefully around the living room as if the rhythm pulsed through his body, urging him to dance. Commanding him to spin and jet as if his life depended on it. His foot tapped to the steady beat. Back and forth, he swayed as the beat picked up the pace. The soundtrack to Tick Tick Boom plays across the stereo.

When Noah flowed in dance, it was as if it were the only way his body truly knew how to speak. Off stage, he is verbally guarded; physically, he shrinks and fades into the background no matter where he is. On stage, his personality and sensuality burst into the most vibrant picture of a beautiful soul. We watched him move to the music filling the penthouse; as he turned, his eyes caught us standing there with no shadows to hide in when we were all in the same room. He dropped his eyes momentarily before looking, his head tilted to one side and a hopeful smile playing on his lips. "Brilliant, Noah."

"Thanks. I love to dance." "It shows you move with the air as if you two are one."

"Thanks, that's the best compliment I have ever received. It's exactly how I feel."

"Only other artists will know how it feels to fly." "Love is passé in this day and age. To me, love is a dance, and dancing is love." "That's beautiful, Noah." He shrugs as he jogs over to the kitchen table. "I, um, brought something for the both of you." Jade and I share a glance, following him inside. Turning around to face us, we gasp and see two gorgeous bouquets of roses. "Beck is a fool, Jade. He was living the American Dream, a beautiful, strong, talented, passionate woman on his arm, attending the school I can only dream about in my wildest dreams. You are funny, smart, and authentic, which is rare in today's barbie cookie-cutter society. Cat, your dad can't understand what he has never experienced, and he's unable to open his heart to see things from your perspective. He built a home only to burn it down with his angry flame; don't let his words scorch your precious soul because you are a diamond, and diamonds sparkle brighter when they are under pressure."

"I bought you each a bouquet of roses because I want you always to remember how beautiful you are. You don't need a man to hold your hand while dancing because you can create enchanting melodies. Now and then, though, every woman needs a little reminding of how unique and precious they are. Even the strongest women need love and acceptance. I'm being raised by one of the toughest women I have ever known. I see how her self-confidence can be broken without an occasional reminder, so let these roses serve as a reminder to you both; someone out here loves and appreciates your individuality."

"You don't see your scars as beautiful because you don't see yourselves as worth it; well, you are worth it. Beauty is beyond the scope of vision. It's from the soul and the heartbeat of every person that makes us divine. Actions speak louder than words, so take these roses as my actions."

"Orange Rose represents fascination, enthusiasm, desire, energy, admiration, and excitement. CJ, AJ, Mazie, and I have learned so much from watching you two chase your dreams; even against all odds, you keep pushing through adversity. It's inspiring and fascinating and gives us an unmatched enthusiasm to keep pushing even when our teachers, friends, and family question our drive. We admire you both, and we always feel this untamed excitement when we think of our futures and image all of us living one day in the same city, chasing our dreams together. So, thank you for inspiring us."

"Blue roses symbolize mystery, and their unique hue is perfect for celebrating those who aren't afraid to be themselves, like you two. These roses symbolize the impossible or the unattainable, reaching for the stars or dreaming big!"

"Lavender roses represent enchantment, splendor, wonder, and mystery, making this rose color meaning especially inspiring. The whimsical lavender hue is also associated with love or enchantment at first sight! It was love at first sight for me when I discovered dance. Today in the park dancing with you two revoked my love for performing after the shooting."

"A few days ago, I questioned if I could ever step on stage again when my friends would never breathe another breath of air. To answer your question from earlier, Jade. I was right in front of the shooter when he opened fire. My Aunt Amanda pushed me out of the way, she saved my life, but in doing so, she let the shooter get away, and she's faced public scrutiny because she chose to save me instead of catching the shooter. She's blaming herself for not doing her job and the loss of sixteen children. So, for days I have been wondering if I should stop dancing. Was my life worth their sacrifice? Today you two brought my love for dance back to center stage. I may never know why I lived, and they didn't, but I know I can honor them by living my life through dance."

"Pink rose? Pink roses are fit for royalty! These blooms are symbols of elegance, refinement, sweetness, and femininity. Peach roses hold special meaning because they convey a sense of sincerity, genuineness, modesty, and gratitude. A bouquet of roses is an appropriate gift for saying "thank you." Red roses symbolize all those things that make a love story great: Passion, desire, true love, and romance. Oh, and they are classic. Who doesn't love a classic?"

Jade's eyes have welled up in a swimming pool of tears. She hugs Noah tightly. "Thank You." She whispers. "I will keep these like a tattoo on my heart." She takes his hand and leads him into the bedroom. She is leaving me to admire the roses and wonder how a boy like Noah, who is only fourteen, can be so sensitive and sweet. How can he see who we are on the inside when boys we go to school with and have known for years only see what we allow them to see on the surface?

I wrap my rope tighter and change the song on the stereo. Taking a deep breath, I grab a bottle of water and take a few gulps; the cool liquid helps calm my racing heart and heated flesh. I can hear the sounds of Jade moaning coming from the room. A spark of jealousy passes through me, but I push it away. Or at least I try.

When I heard the music flowing through the speakers and Jordan's voice belt from the speakers, it was like liquid adrenaline being injected right into my bloodstream - not so strong as to me out, but just enough to make my muscles tingle and start to move my body.

"Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, oh

Oh-oh, oh-oh."

"If I should die before I wake

It's 'cause you took my breath away

Losing you is like living in a world with no air, oh

I'm here alone; I didn't wanna leave

My heart won't move; it's incomplete

Wish there was a way that I could make you understand."

I'm a well-oiled machine on the dance floor. I don't dance to show off, to make the girls or boys watch - but they do. Anyone that could move like their limbs were half liquid in perfect rhythm and still look strong was interesting. I'm used to the attention, and I love it most days. My siblings and I grew up in a household of women who danced. A day never went by without our mother or aunts taking us by the hands to spin around the room. We were all in classes from the time we could walk; some chose to walk away as they got older, but not me. I sway my hips and slash around the room as if competing. I swung my arms over my head as I leaped and turned, rocking my hips and thrusting. I am one with music. My eyes are glued to the wall where my spot is located. All dancers know to find a spotting point. As soon as they start to dance, it prevents us from getting dizzy.

Music in our house is on from first light to last. In all styles and forms, instrumental and lyrical. It flowed through all of us and between us, creating bonds more substantial than the temple's walls. Whenever I hear those old tunes, no matter where I am, there's an urge inside me so strong I can't ignore it. I dance. Because in my memories, I am dancing with those women who loved me more than the rising sun.

When I dance, I am free.

I never walk anywhere. I love to rewatch my dance routines. My legs extended like a prima ballerina, and I glide from place to place, arms held in front, fingertips touching. For me, a moment spent not dancing was a moment wasted. Others see it as eccentricity, but to me, it was perfection. Expression through movement is my genius, and watching me hone it was more breathtaking than the new flowers of spring. I am my most prominent critic, but being honest about my flaws in dance and art that's how I grow.

"Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air

Can't live, can't breathe with no air

That's how I feel whenever you ain't there

There's no air, no air

Got me out here in the water so deep

Tell me how you're gon' be without me

If you ain't here, I just can't breathe

There's no air, no air."

I dance the pain away, the agony of hearing the person I gave my virginity away to having sex with someone else; even if I know it means nothing to her, it means something to me. I danced out the physical pain by stretching my muscles out; to dance was freedom, and to dance was to become an opening flower or a butterfly aloft. To feel the movement was a new breath for my body and nourishing a tired soul. I could dance until the sweat dripped to the polished wood and my reflection showed pink cheeks. After that, sleep came easy, and the dreams were of more twirls and leaps to the music that was part of my blood.

I am a ballet dancer with the sores and calloused feet to prove that my feat was truly earned in pain. Yet nothing in my existence has ever brought me more joy than dance, to say that I belong to the ballet, that part of my DNA is dance. The stage under my feet, be it an actual stage or a living room hardwood floor, are the only applause I ever need to feel that strong support beneath those silk slippers. Though I love crowds and fame, my true love is always the act of dancing, the feeling of making those leaps and twirls look so easy as if they cost me nothing at all, and it is only my pleasure to give.

My feet are sorer than usual because I am not wearing proper shoes or boots; honestly, I don't care; I must keep dancing. Every ballet dancer trains, sweats, cries, falls, and trains again - that makes us dancers.

"Cat." When I stop twirling, I am instantly dizzy and almost lose my balance. My chest is heaving, and I feel a headache from the lack of oxygen; hands grab me and help me to the couch. "Get her some orange juice. We need to get her blood sugar up; she's worked herself into a frenzy." Jade's eyes meet mine as she kneels between my legs. "I'm here. Relax. I know you are not here right now, baby, but try to breathe. There's plenty of air for all of us."

She's right; I am not in the room, not mentally. I am swimming out in the ocean, the waves washing over me, and no matter how hard I struggle to swim to the shore, I can't find it. I am out there in those waters so deep. I felt sick; Shivers ran down my skin. My hands felt cold as ice, and I paused to hack out the mucus clogging, my muscles spasmodic in uncontrolled gags. Jade's hands caress my back as she takes the juice Noah hands her. She takes a sip to ensure it's the kind I like before giving it to me. Shakingly I take it from sipping it, leaning back into the couch.

Noah smiles as he sits down beside me. His arm wrapped around my shoulders. "I know that feeling when you get caught up in the dance. You forget there's the entire world around you. It's just you and the melody. It's the best feeling in the world. The essential thing in dance discipline is devotion."

"You were memorizing, Cat." "Like a butterfly on the wings of the winds. So beautiful and technical; I can tell you put a lot of time and effort into perfecting your craft. To watch you dance, Cat. It was watching your heart bleed out on the floor. So tender but so strong."

Noah's words touch my heart. Seeing him look so lonely at me makes me cuddle closer. He's shy and can barely look at me, but he touches my arm so softly it speaks volumes for the lack of looks. His touch tells me he thinks I am beautiful.

Noah drew me toward him with his eyes; he inclined his face towards me and lay his mouth on mine like a freshly split-open log in the middle of a raging fire. For a long time, he kissed me, filling me with profound astonishment.

Breathing deeply, he remained a child astonished by the abundance of knowledge and things worth learning opening up before his eyes. I place my hands on his left cheek, filled with a sudden desire. I need to experience this, all of it. To know how it feels to make love to a boy.

Somewhere below this, my heart is reacting. Not a thump, exactly. Not even a leap. But a swish, like a fish kicking off a hook. It's like rain rushing down or the first snow falling upon my heart. My heart, that aquatic creature, was scared and anticipating moving that moment between excitement and fear. Noah's touch is rougher than Jade's, which excites me; he's faster in his movements. Leading me to the bedroom, stumbling from nerves. "Use protection, kids!" Jade calls out, laughing, sipping the remaining orange juice. I stick my middle finger up at her, earning a gasp and a peal of loud laughter. "I'm not kidding!" she yells seconds before Noah kicks the door closed, his arms wrapped around my waist and mine around his neck. Noah effortlessly picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He's strong and graceful, smooth and shy, a modern-day Casanova.

Laying me on my back against the end of the bed, he doesn't place me in the middle. I hear him rip open the condom package and feel his heart beating faster. All my nerves come racing back. I have never seen a male gentile. "Take your time, Noah. Please. I'm just as nervous as you." "I-I will. Promise." He grabbed my wrist and slid my hand down his six-pack abs until it rested on his stomach. I tremble from excitement. I've never felt a boy's chest naked before. Sometimes I accidentally rubbed against them in dance, but they were always clothed. Now I can feel the meaning of rock hard; his chest is spacious and smooth. He's no bodybuilder, but for a fourteen-year-old boy, he is well-sculptured.

"I value you as a woman, Cat. Not as a girl. I will cherish your body like the goddess it is." "Okay, let's not get sappy here. Noah. I am no Marilyn Monroe." "Who?" I laugh a little yeah, he is young and innocent. My laughter confuses him. I see it in his eyes, a little hurt and ashamed. It makes me feel bad about laughing. "You're beautiful, Cat. I don't know who this Marilyn lady is, but I promise I will never look at you with critical gazes or brutal amazement. You will always be the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Jesus, Romeo, did you use these lines on Jade too?" "No." he laughs apprehensively. "Jade didn't want to talk; she just showed me what I needed to do and let me have sex with her. She wasn't into pick-up lines or cheesy quotes." "I'm sorry if I am being a dork. The teenage years have not been kind to me. My biological parents are both dead. I spent much time in the hospital as a kid with respiratory infections and odd illnesses. I swear my life has been like one soapy nighttime drama. My mom works so much that she left me with nannies; she doesn't trust many people, especially after my biological grandmother kidnapped me as a child."

"She what!" Noah nods, leaning down, breathing into my face grinning. His eyes twinkle. "I'm not telling you this to get you to make me feel better by kissing me, but if you want to, kiss me. I mean. I wouldn't mind it."

"Oh, you wouldn't? Would you?"

Noah shrugs sheepishly. "Guess there's only one way to find out, isn't there, Cat?"

I lift my head off the bed, pulling myself up using his neck as my bracing point. My legs wrap tighter around his face, the most sensitive area on my body is pressed into his hip, and when I move, I can feel it rubbing against his rock-hard bone. It does something to me, something I can only explain as arousal.

Our mouths met. Warm and sweet stirring more than fire, but a sense of lost innocence. He drew back only to return and take another taste, a return of integrity, a satisfying savor.

The kiss made me feel unbelievably precious to him, like a princess in a Disney fairytale. When we part, I can hear him breathing harder and feel him throbbing down there. It's jerking against my thigh. "You sound like you love your adoptive mom a lot, though." "I do, she's the only parent I have ever known, and she works her ass off for me. Even though she's way overprotective, I get it. I am her only family. She treasures me. I treasure her. She's given me a very happy childhood, but I struggle socially. AJ is a ladies' man. Every girl at school wants to fuck him. AJ is willing to fuck almost all of them too. He has no trouble talking to a girl. CJ and I were social outcasts. I miss the influence of a persistent male role model. So, I guess I am trying a little too hard. I'm sorry; it means a lot to me that you are willing to trust me with your body."

"I hear my mom and Aunt Amanda talk about how women are taken advantage of and labeled, and I know it makes girls defensive and protective of themselves. It can make you not trust a boy simply for being a boy; I don't want you to think this is a game with me. It's not. I treasure this opportunity."

I stop him before he can open the condom further. "Can I feel it? I've never felt a penis before." He nods, grinning, his eyes staring lovingly at me. His smile lights up the room. "Fuck is this my life?" His comment makes me laugh. I ran my hand over his throbbing bulge. His penis lay flat against his leg. The pulse was visible as it shook the thin fabric of his boxers. I danced my hand over it again and looked up at him.

Once he made eye contact with me, I pulled his boxers down. His penis throbbed inches away from my face.

"It's amazing. I've never seen one before; excuse my nerves if I ask something dumb. How do I touch it?" Noah touches my hand gently and leads it down to his bulge. "Stroke it gently, like you stoked Jade's you-know-what. It's the same, except instead of up back and forth, just up-and-down. You can start slowly and work your speed up. You won't hurt me." "Start at the top, that's called the tip, or head, then work up my shaft, that's the long part. It will grow as you stroke. It gets thicker. Please don't be scared; it's normal. If you want, you can touch the balls. You don't have to, though."

I wrapped my small hand around the base of his shaft. I gently darted my tongue over the glistening tip. I wouldn't say I liked the taste or the feel, and I felt uncomfortable, so I removed my tongue. Noah strokes my face. "It's okay. It's not for everyone." "Do what makes you feel comfortable." My hand slid up the shaft to grab the head. The sensation was exhilarating for him. I felt an electrical shock go through him as he began to spasm.

"Oh God," he moaned, half in rapture, half in terror. "I'm cumming." I remove my hand to prevent him from cumming too soon. Placing the condom on him as Jade showed me. I could feel his soft, warm body on top of mine, and he caressed my thighs while he slowly began to thrust inside.

He grabbed my hips and began sliding deeper inside. "Ooh, shit, Cat. You feel so good. I can feel the squeezing of your walls as I slide in, so wet it feels so amazing against the throbbing hardness of my member."

"Glad, it feels good for you, Noah. Cause it fucking hurts for me."

"Ooh, damn." "I'm sorry. I'll go slower."

Noah stops and lets me breathe and adjust before he reenters slowly and gently, to let me get used to his thickness, but when I start to moan from the pleasure of his entry, it becomes too much for him. He began thrusting hard and fast, and the new sensation was growing vast and deep as if I was going to drown in it. He pushed hard and filled me deeply. Pain and sweet aching filled me inside.

When I came, I called his name softly. Our spasms of passion were in time with each other. Confused a little physically, I felt terrific; my arousal had given way to a fantastic orgasm, but emotionally I felt no connection to him. I didn't feel the same passion inside my heart as my body displayed while we were having sex. I felt as if I had gone from under the ocean of desire - a deep, agonizingly sweet place - and had suddenly been propelled upward to the surface, gasping what felt like a first breath of real life.

I was drifting away

with the current like flower petals floating on a river, winding their way freely to wherever the river might take it. I lay there floating, enjoying the waves, vaguely aware that he had collapsed on top of me, that his hot breath was teasing the sweaty hairs clinging to my neck, and wondering what it all meant if I enjoyed sex with him but felt no emotional connection. Did it make me bisexual or a lesbian? I know straight was out of the cards after today for me, so what am I? Who am I? How do I identify?

"Dang it, Cat. I am so sorry!" Noah's voice rises in panic as I look up, confused. He couldn't read my mind, so why was he panicking? "The condom broke!" I lay back down, dizzy with a racing heart. "Fuck, my life," I mumble, burying myself into the pillows, screaming.

Johnny can't decide- Songwriter: Jonathan Larson.

No Air- written by James Fauntleroy II, Harvey Mason Jr., and Steve Russell.