And All the Pretty Little Horses

A Victorious Oneshot

A/N-Wow, this story was just posted last night and there's so many favs and alerts. I'm glad this was well received. I thank you all.

"Have you ever been afraid to die?"

"I've never really thought about it," I reply, looking out of the hotel window, watching the sun die off far in the horizon. "I've never really thought about death."

"I have. I've imagined it as cold and painful."

I keep eye on the horizon, watching for any car or motorcycle, and for all the ones that surface, I stare to see who's inside. I can't stop tapping my fingers against the dresser. I'm expecting the worst. Being a thief isn't easy, but being a thief where everyone and their mother knows your name and location is even harder. I've never really had the chance to talk to her about all of this, I've never had the opportunity to ask Jade why she's joined me in this…journey of mine. I've never had the opportunity to ask myself why I let her. Every time we stole and I would look over at her, I saw just a little bit more of color leave her eyes, as if the Jade just minutes before was corrupted, more and more and more. Now, she's despondent, cold and hiding her fear, and I'm to blame. I could have carried on this life alone, happy and without guilt, but I was a fool to drag her down with me, and I was a fool to think I wasn't a fool. It's a quiet room, so it isn't hard to hear her trembling, it isn't hard to hear the voices in my head saying, "You damn idiot, goddamn idiot!" And who am I to disagree with the voices in my own head?If I ventured deep inside and searched the dusty catacombs of my heart and soul to find happy memories of her and me, I'd be there forever. I'd be there so long I might as well bury myself in one of those tombs, I wouldn't find many, and they wouldn't be long. I've lost my love to jewels and hideouts, to getaways cars and dirty money, to fake names and fake smiles.

"I don't think that. I think death is instant, depending on the type, obviously. What if you were shot in the head?"

"They say death is instant, but how would they know? People don't come back from the dead to tell you about it, and if they did no one would give them the chance to say it."

"Why's that?"

"They'd already have holes in their heads. Zombies are feared like the Devil nowadays."

I chuckle, and I find it odd that I have to clear my throat after, I find it actually painful to laugh. But that's one thing I can't be blamed for. I'm anxious, I'm nervous, I'm…I think I'm even scared, not for me, but for her. They're coming for us, and she still hasn't chosen to run out of the door. They won't ask questions, they won't bring handcuffs, they're coming for blood. Can you believe it, the FBI coming for blood without righteous cause? We haven't even killed anyone. But that's just the corruption of the country, I'm not surprised about that, only surprised that she's still here. I load another bullet into my pistol, once done I slide it over to join the other weapons on the dresser. I don't know how much good stocking up will do, but it's worth a shot. I want to get out of here alive, I don't want to die, and I definitely don't want her to die, not for me. I pull another gun towards me, this time a rifle, and I begin the same old routine.

"I think when I die…it will be painful."

"Why would you say that?" I ask, struggling to balance my eyes between the window and the gun. It must end here. It's them or us, and I'm done running, and I know Jade is too, she has to be. Ever since they wiped out of the rest of us, Tori and Andre, and turned Robbie into a damn informant, we've been running. That all was years ago. Now every time I lie my head down to sleep, I see Andre's bloodied face, Tori's bullet-ridden body. Her small frame…just…torn…her eyes narrow and her mouth slightly parted, her voice disappearing before she can utter out Andre's name. It still hurts to know that I let Robbie live. I had the damn gun to his head, he nearly pissed himself, and by whatever goodness was left in me that day on the rooftop, I couldn't waste him. And whatever thought that held the fact that Robbie told the FBI where we were, it wasn't present that day. But it's present now, and it's always present at the wrong times. Whenever I try to sleep, whenever I kiss Jade, whenever I blink, it's present. And I can assure myself and anyone who asks, I would not let pass the opportunity to kill him the next time we met eyes. And I hope he's coming with those agents, I pray he is, I want to see the look in his eyes as I kill everyone around him, or the look in his eyes if they gun me down, riddle my body with bullets like they did Tori and Andre while he just stood by, hear my scream like I heard hers…I want to see the guilt in his eyes, a guilt we can share. And if I do survive, and it's just me and him, I'd love to hang him from the rooftop of this hotel and drop him stories below to the white marbled pavement.

"Because I believe that death is painful to those who deserve a painful death. Maybe death is merciful to those who deserve mercy."

"You deserve mercy, you've done nothing wrong," I say, taking my shirt because of the hot room.

I can hear her scoff. "I've been doing things wrong for years now."

I close the chamber in the gun. "Like stay with me?"

The bed creaks and the next thing I know, arms are wrapped around my neck and she rests her head on my shoulder. "No, that's the only thing I've done right."

I inhale deeply and turn around to see her. "If worst comes to worst, do you think you could…you know."

"We've talked about this before, Beck. I…I think I would be able to, if that's what you really wanted."

"You could really kill us both?"

"If that's what you wanted, and I know you can do the same."

"Maybe."

She stares at me as I turn back to the window. "You don't know if you could kill us?"

"I know I could kill me, but you…"

"Don't you dare leave me like that, that'd be worse than killing me." She turns me around with as much force as she can muster. "Promise me."

"I promise."

"You promise what?"

"I promise I'd kill us…both."

She brings her lips to mine, our humid lips sticking together as she pulls away. "And it'll be painful."

"Jade..."

"Say it, goddamn it."

"Why?"

"Because I can't stand myself, now say it."

"And it'll be painful."

She sighs and walks back over to the bed, crawling over and propping herself up on the bedpost. All this time she's been stocking up on her own weapons. She doesn't even have much on besides her version of pajamas, and she's ready to kill. I wish I could spend the rest of our time together just staring at her, but there's some faint hope in me that we'll make it out of here alive, so I turn around again. There must be a lot of "somethings" in me, because something in me wishes we could say, "I love you." To each other and all of this would go away. But we don't, and it won't.

"Are you scared?" She asks. I hear the question loud and clear, but I don't respond. The sun's down now, and I look more intently at what passes on the faraway roads. She says, "Yeah, me too."

The insistent, growling television is on for no good reason and it starts to irritate me. "Will you turn that damn thing off?"

"You always watch this show, Beck. You love this show."

"Will you just turn it off?" My voice raises, and it's unfair. She doesn't deserve it. She sighs, grabbing the black remote and obliging. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

I turn around and look at her. "I really am sorry."

"I know…I know."

"You know, to answer your question, I think death is painful, yes. But it's painful to anyone and everyone, like I said, depending on the type of death. I don't think it matters if you're holy or unholy, saint or sinner, it just doesn't matter. A slit of the throat is going to hurt a lot more than a shot to the head. A silent death in your sleep is much more peaceful than…being riddled with hundreds of bullets."

"I guess you're right."

"Did you hear that?"

"Did I hear what?"

I turn back around to see at least twenty FBI vehicles out in front of the hotel. I see snipers finding their posts in the surrounding buildings, other agents making their way towards the building. I jump up and hastily transfer the guns from the dresser to the floor and I pull and shove the dresser to barricade the door. I grab the jewels that are stashed under the bed and struggle to lift them all to put them inside the dresser, weighing it down. I grab a rifle and begin to set it up by the window, until I hear Jade's voice.

"Wait, Beck…"

"What is it? Now's not the time."

"Come here," She says.

"I can't."

"Come here," She repeats, this time a pleading whisper. I growl and get up, picking up a snub-nosed revolver on my way to her.

"What?"

She reaches out for my arm, and without thinking I grant her it. She slowly pulls me down to lie next to her. She cuddles close to me, a smile on her face that I lost to the catacombs long ago, and it's shocking and beautiful at the same time to see, like seeing birth for the first time, like seeing a miracle for the first time. "I'm scared," She whispers.

I swallow hard. "Yeah, me too."

She holds me close to her. She's trying to hide her shaking hands as they rest on the back of my neck. "Do you think we'll make it out of here?"

"I don't know, Jade."

"Do you want to make it out of here?"

That's a question I've always thought about, but never had been cursed or blessed enough to be asked. It's something I've gone back and forth on forever. Like I said, I could have been happy, carefree, self destructive, suicidal, all if Jade wasn't a part of the picture. But she is a part of the picture, and everyone threatens to hold a lighter to us, burning our whole life away. But she's beautiful, she's flawless, and there's only one of her. This is the only copy of a masterpiece, and it's my sworn duty to protect her from everything, even if that means burning her myself. I'd make it quick, I'd make it honorable, I'd make it be with someone she loves. She was born to people who love her, she learned how to ride a bike from people who love her, she had her first kiss with someone who loved her, she made love for the first time with someone who loved her, so she should die with someone who loves her. She turns around and cuddles into me, one of my arms wrapped around her waist. "You don't have to answer that." I look at the gun in my hand, I look to see my hands are shaking as well. We hear commotion outside, they've entered the building. The megaphone sounds for me, and only me.

"You promised, Beck."

"I know I did, but…"

"You promised me."

My voice is as shaky as my hands are, my breathing is uneven. "Cat once told me a nursery rhyme. She said her mother would always sing it to her so she could sleep peacefully. I remember it. I don't know why it's come to mind now, but it's here. I wanna," I swallow hard again, "I wanna recite it."

She buries herself within me farther. "Go ahead."

My next words are put in little bubbled called sobs, "Jade…"

"Recite it to me, Beck."

Damn you, Jade. "Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleepy my little baby. When you wake, you'll have cake, and all the pretty little horses…"

"It's beautiful, Beck."

"Don't speak," I tell her, if she speaks…it humanizes her. I can't have her human right now, I can't have her Jade. "Blacks and bays, dapples and greys, a coach, and six little horses," I'm crying, and it's oozing out through my mouth. "Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep my little baby." I cock the gun, the harsh sound echoing through my mind and making me utter a curse word. "Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep my little baby." Damn it, I can't do it. I can't…she's…she's Jade... "When you wake, you'll have cake, and all the pretty little horses."

"I love you, Beck," She whispers. It's a drowsy whisper, as if she's falling asleep, peacefully.

I put the gun to her head. "Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep my little baby." I can't…damn it. Damn idiot, goddamn idiot. I can do it, no…no I can't…she's Jade…she's…she wants me to do it…but I can't. I can't… "When you wake, you'll have cake…and all the pretty little horses."

A/N-Read and review!