A/N: I feel like SUCH a dork, but I was really pissed off when I watched this episode. The one where Tyler blurts out about Gwen and Duncan. I saw Courtney crying, and felt so bad. I kinda remind myself of her xD But anyways, I felt so bad, especially because I ship Duncan and Courtney really hard, and hate hate hate Duncan and Gwen together as a couple. So, I decided I had to write something about it. I have another idea too, so I might write that too. But yeah.

Please spare me, I haven't wrote anything TDI in ages!


She curled up on a ball in the first class compartment, with the rest of Team Amazon fast asleep. But not her, no. She was wide awake, staring out the window at the dark, purple-ish sky, wondering if she would float gently onto a cloud if she opened the Escape door.

That was what she needed, an escape. She felt betrayed, stupid, and completely humiliated. But also, she felt like her heart was ripped right from her chest. He meant so much to her, despite the fact she was always telling him to change a few things every now and then, it wasn't as though she really meant it. She loved everything about him; from his piercings to his mowhawk to his battered Chucks.

And she was afraid that she would always love him. Even after what he did to her.

Maybe things wouldn't have been so bad if he just broke up with her. Instead, he played her. And the girl he was conspiring with against her back, she just so happened to begin to think of her as a friend. Not anymore, of course. How could she feel that way for some no-good, betraying whore?

Mocha eyes stared out at the clouds, her free hand touched the glass, letting her fingertips just barely graze over it. She didn't flinch when Sierra started to snore lightly or when Cody mumbled something about "no foot rubs" or even when Heather shifted in the section across from where Courtney sat. No, the crushed girl didn't stir until she heard a faint gargle from one of the two people she truely hated at that moment.

You'd think the second one would be him, the delinquent, Duncan. But it wasn't. It was herself.

Icy tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any given second. She always tried to keep any weaknesses to herself, but earlier she just let herself sob hysterically. In front of Heather! She couldn't stop herself from crying anymore though, she no longer felt powerful or in charge. She felt weak, defenseless, alone. And hated it, hating herself even more as the salty liquid staind her cheeks, helpless whimpers escaped her lips.

A boy shouldn't be able to do that to a girl, no matter how crazy they were about them. Duncan was different though. He never gave up on her, even after the countless times she shot him down, or all of the crazy things she put him up to. He never gave up on her, and she never gave up on him. She knew that, despite never having a boyfriend before, Duncan was and always would be special to her. After assuring herself that he could be the one, despite his rough exterior, she now hadn't the faintest idea what to do with herslf.

Courtney was broken.

The worst part about that was that she knew that she was broken. She knew how weak and pathetic she looked, she felt! What was she supposed to do about it though? He took her heart and he threw it in a meat grinder.

Her fists tightened around the object she had been fingering the entire night. A small, wooden skull splintered the palm of her hand as she held it close, but she didn't flinch. Courtney welcomed the way it felt, holding the skull closer, to the point she could almost feel it crushing between her grasp.

Season One seemed like a distant dream, but her elimination was so clear in her mind, it was as though it happened the day before. Harold stuffed the box to toy with Duncan's heart, and she was forced onto the boat to speed away. Before she could get too far, her delinquent called out to her and chucked a wooden skull that he carved just for her, right at her. She caught it, called it creepy, but cherished it all the same.

She never left the house, went through a challenge, or cried without the wooden skull. He made it for her, in some warped way to show that he cared. He meant more to her than some meaningless summer fling. They lasted a good while, on-again off-again of course, but they were Duncan and Courtney, they got through things.

The round surface of the skull was met with a tear, then it fell to the floor with a soft thud. She didn't bother to pick it up. Instead, she curled up tighter in her seat, closed her eyes, and imagined herself gone, having escaped.

Floating gently on a purple cloud.