{Based on the awesome Cassidy Jones Series, by Elise Stokes. If kick-butt girl super heroes are your thing, this is a must-read!}

This fic is definitely unique, haha. I really wanted to explore a different possible side of Cassidy's beast. I feel I accomplished that, in many words. Many, many words, in fact, lol. It may start off a little slow, but there are definitely some surprises in store.

And now, our feature presentation... ;)


I'm laughing, I'm crying,

It feels like I'm dying.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to.

I'll cry until the candles burn down this place.

I'll cry until my pity party's in flames…

~ Pity Party, Melanie Martinez


The library air was pleasantly musty from the yellowing pages of timeworn books and the crisp, ivory pages of new ones, and the cool air blasting from the ceiling vents was a sweet reprieve from the mounting Washington heat. Cassidy sighed in contentment as she browsed through the B's that stuffed the high, wooden shelves. She loved the Queen Anne Branch library. Something about the old building, with its stained glass windows and aged doorways, made her feel like she'd gone back in time.

Of course, judging by the look on a nearby Remora's face, the sentiment was not unanimous. It came as no surprise to Cassidy that Robin Newton's toadies shared her views on library field trips, book reports, and old things in general. Mindy Ames let out an abrupt sneeze before dropping a novel loudly to the floor. She jumped and glared at the worn copy of Emma like it had bitten her. Cassidy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely.

She turned her attention back to her search for Brontë, getting lost in her thoughts once more. Excitement began to creep back in as she recalled her purpose for being in the same book aisle as Sneezy Illiterate-Pants in the first place.


Their English teacher had publicized the trip only that Monday, instilling excitement or horror into the hearts of many, depending on the person's preference. Cassidy had been abuzz with anticipation, particularly because she knew exactly who she would ask to be her partner, and she couldn't think of anything more romantic than poring over a classic novel and debating character motivation with Jared Wells. She'd pounced on him only minutes after the announcement was made, with zero shame on her part. Cassidy wasn't about to let some useless, pretty-faced leech latch onto Jared and make him do all the work for the project. No, she'd done him a favor by acting as quickly as she had.

He seemed to think so too, as that beautiful, curling smile she loved so much appeared in response to her demand- err, request- to work with him. She mirrored Jared's smile when he went on to suggest that they cover a Brontë novel of her choice; that he trusted her taste and looked forward to reading a favorite of hers. If she had been a girl to swoon and pass out, Cassidy would have, at that point. No question.

So it was settled; her first school project with Jared since the incident-that-must-not-be-named. Water under the bridge. She could hardly believe she'd managed to go so long without him around. It seriously defied the laws of science.

However, that left throwing poor Emery to the wolves, which she was loathe to do; but she couldn't have two partners! It wasn't allowed, and the genius didn't need hers- or anyone's- help taking care of himself and his currently unchallenging academic endeavors. Their nonverbal agreement to do all school projects together was really just a formality that kept Emery from dumbing himself down to moronic standards while doing work he could complete easily, even if drowning or being eaten alive by an intergalactic space worm.

She'd managed to persuade herself that he wouldn't mind her untimely abandonment at all, but, by the time she'd found her way back to their table, she was thoroughly unconvinced. The expression on his face- albeit priceless- was significantly displeased. Well, displeased for Emery, at least.

"Am I correct to assume you won't be joining me for this particular assignment?" He'd inquired somewhat curtly, scrolling through an email on his Droid without looking up.

"Um…" She'd fidgeted, "It's just this one time."

"I see," had been his blank reply. He went back to his email like she hadn't sat down.

Cassidy identified this as the subtle-but-dreaded Phillips brush off. Though she really hadn't done anything all that bad, it still filled her with guilt, as per usual. "It isn't as if you don't have people- girls, specifically- clamoring to be your partner!" She'd defended herself.

It was true, after all. The Horde, as she preferred to call them, were a pack of starving predators, all eager to catch Emery in their polished, razor-talons. The only thing that stood between them and their prey, on most days, was Cassidy. She assumed they either had enough fear or respect for her to not trample her in order to get to him. And before they even reached Cassidy, they would have to face Miriam. No one was eager to do that.

Therefore, the Horde must have altar-sacrificed a grizzly bear the night before, or whatever they did in hopes to finally catch Emery's eye, because the Fates were smiling on them. Miriam was not in that English class, and Cassidy was actually partnering with a different male. She was sure their dreams had come true, if the manic, salivating expressions they bore were any testament.

"Be that as it may," Emery acknowledged dryly, "because of your decision, my weekend will be an agonizing one, as I will have one of said starving predators breathing down my neck all hours of the day."

Cassidy would never get used to his occasional insight to her thoughts. "An attractive young woman throwing herself at you? Poor baby." She eyed him incredulously, "It's not like she's gonna eat you."

"That's debatable." He replied, tapping out a reply to the email on his phone screen. "Feel free to go squeal over Rochester and Heathcliff, while I contend with demons across the room."

Cassidy huffed at his tone. "Maybe I will." He could be so condescending sometimes. "Have fun!" With that, she'd scooped up her bag and skipped back over to Jared, fully prepared to suggest every Brontë title she could think of and pointedly ignore Emery as the shiny, flat-ironed sharks closed in. Teach him to use that tone with her!


Now Cassidy stood at the B-shelf, briskly perusing book titles, likely with a very dopey grin on her face. She had a right to be dopey! This was the thing chick flicks were made of, after all. Jane EyreWuthering Heights… Jane Eyre… Wuthering Heights… Her prime choices bounced back and forth in her head like a ping-pong ball. Decisions, decisions.

Which would Jared prefer? They were both kind of gothic. Surely that would appeal to him as a boy, right? Cassidy weighed both novels in her hands, like she could determine the right choice by their density. Jane Eyre was less of a love story, wasn't it? Or not? Why was she so conflicted!?

If she was partnering with Emery, he'd shoot off a logical list of reasons why one was preferable to the other, even if he hadn't read the book in his life. He just knewthese things, somehow. But she wasn't partnered with the Human Encyclopedia, and it was her responsibility to make sure Jared wasn't bored to death with her novel choice!

The internal battle must have affected her equilibrium, because Wuthering Heights face-planted, or, in this case, cover-planted, onto the wood floor a moment later. It echoed across the room like a gunshot.

Crap. Heads turned Cassidy's way and a very chagrined librarian waggled his shriveled old finger. She felt duly chastised and ducked to the floor to grab the book. Sorry, Emily. Cassidy apologized silently to the worn copy. On her way back up, a bare, white spine caught her eye on a lower shelf. She paused and tugged the thick book out.

Rebecca. Cassidy's eyes trailed down the cover. Daphne du Maurier. A sliver of excitement rippled through her again. She knew this one! She'd read it a year ago, not long after the Jared Incident, and had lamented miserably on both her and the heroine's twisted fates. It was a remarkable novel all the same. Now was their chance for redemption! She could read this one with Jared and erase all the depressing, binge-eating memories that came along with it. Cassidy did a little happy dance. She just knew Jared wouldn't mind!

Of course, she'd keep the depressed, binging details between herself and the second Mrs. de Winter. What happened in fictional hazes should stay in fictional hazes.

With that in mind, Cassidy took Rebecca and the slightly newer edition beside it. She'd let Jared decide which copy he wanted to checkout for himself. After lovingly placing the Brontë selections in their rightful spots, she carried her newfound treasures out of the room and went on the hunt for her partner.

They were told to split up to be more efficient. One partner was to hunt down their novel of choice, the other was to reserve a study-table for the two of them. She hoped Jared remembered that she wanted one near the windows. Preferably with a little more privacy than the majority of their options, but she wasn't picky.

Cassidy entered the next room and looked around, eager to catch sight of a certain sandy mop of hair. She recognized many of her classmates amongst the meager throng of people, either arguing over their seating arrangement or in line at the checkout desk. She made her way through, trying to avoid stepping on peoples' toes or knocking the material from their hands. She had a nasty habit of breaking things that shouldn't be easy to break, after all.

Her valiant efforts proved to be in vain, because, hardly a half-minute later, she successfully managed to clobber someone's feet with her floral-printed rain boots.

"Ah!" A familiar voice squeaked, " Yikes! Watch it- oh. Hey, Cass!" The disgruntled tone turned immediately cheerful when its user recognized her clobberer. Carli Cooper's wide, pink-banded smile became eye level to Cassidy as the taller girl stretched to her full height.

"Hey, Carli." Cassidy ignored the slight burn of embarrassment in her cheeks and grinned sheepishly at her friend. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

The blonde girl let out her familiar, bubbly laugh. "LOL! I've never heard that one before, actually. I'm kinda hard to miss." She gestured to her very long arms and legs in a humorous, self-deprecating way.

Cassidy smiled for real this time, rolling her eyes at Carli's summation. "Puh-lease. Every girl in our grade would kill to be as tall and thin as you are, and you know it. You could be one of those Vogue models."

Carli cackled. "Vogue? Those anorexic things? Whatever." She shook her messy blonde locks and gave Cassidy a devilish look. "I'm thinking more along the lines of Victoria's Secret Angel."

Cassidy guffawed at this, struggling not to drop her books. "Yeah, tell that to your mom. I'd love to hear what she thinks about it." She couldn't imagine what Mrs. Cooper- the athletic, PTA Queen of Queen Anne- would say about her daughter's supposed Angel aspirations.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." Carli grinned, tossing a dilapidated copy of Old Yeller from hand to hand. "You lookin' for Emery? Cuz, I gotta warn ya, Beotch Alert. Jessica Blanchett is all over him right now. Talk about dis-gus-ting. Ugh."

Carli got a nasty look from Kait, the Teacher Aide, for her use of "vulgar slang", as the young, overzealous educator-in-training might call it. Carli lowered her voice and leaned in closer. "You better defend your man, honey."

Cassidy busted up, unable to control the hysterical giggles that slipped out. "How many times do I have to tell you people? Emery is not my man." Her shoulders shook as she tried to quiet down and avoid Dragon Kait's wrath.

When she looked up, she was surprised by Carli's doubtful stare, causing her to fidget with her books. Why did everyone always assume these things? It wasn't as if she and Emery had ever been seen coming out of closets or from under bleachers together! She cringed at the thought.

Carli must have noticed Cassidy' discomfort, because she hurried to say, "I mean, I know there's nothing going on. If you say it's nothing, it's nothing. Honest. But you should know, Robin Newton's been saying-"

"Ugh." Cassidy couldn't help it. Only thing that came out of that girl's mouth was venom. Ever since the über-popular snake found out she'd have to go on a cruise with the Joneses, she'd pulled out all the stops. It seemed the Queen Bee wanted everyone to be ultra-aware of her hate for Cassidy, before she was forced to get up close and personal with her. What else was new?

Carli winced and changed tactics. "I shouldn't be one to spread gossip. I'm sorry. But what she's saying is worse than normal… she's making up all kinds of stories, even getting her friends to agree with it. You know what I'm getting at…?"

Cassidy felt her stomach turn in knots as she gripped the books to her chest. She could just imagine it. She didn't think she could bear the actual details, but she had a fairly good idea of what those words entailed. "You don't think people believe that stuff, do you?"

"Only people that don't know you and are dumb enough to take anything Robin says seriously." Carli put a sympathetic hand on Cassidy's shoulder. "Don't worry too much about it. Me and the girls tell everybody that brings it up the real truth. And anyone who doesn't listen to Miriam Cohen is either crazy brave or crazy retarded."

Both girls chuckled at this. It was frighteningly true.

"Besides, all they have are mean-spirited stories. No proof. Nobody has anything against the two of you. Not even Emery's friends are buying into it." Carli grinned. "And you know how those apes are."

Cassidy laughed genuinely at that. Nothing got teenage boys rowdy like a good old-fashioned scandal. She felt slightly better. "Yeah, you're right. Anyway, I'm not partnered with Emery. Jared and I are doing this one together." She struggled to keep the telltale blush from her face.

Judging by the devilish gleam that returned to Carli's eyes, it hadn't worked. "I see." She gnawed on a piece of her blonde hair. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. I gotta go check this out and get back to Bren. You know how darn impatient that girl is." She spit the lock of hair out. "Try not to make Emery too jealous, ya hear?" And, with a sly wink, Carli was gone.

Cassidy shook her head incredulously. She didn't understand that girl sometimes. Heck, she didn't understand most girls. No wonder her best friend was a boy. They were much less complex and baffling.

She watched her friend flounce off and turned in the opposite direction. She'd lost time and needed to find the table Jared picked out. They had to at least have their project plan prepared before going back to school. She didn't want them to lose points just because she got chatty with a friend. Jared was no doubt waiting patiently for her, as he always did. Never rushing her, never demanding anything. He was just so perfect. Her heart squeezed in contentment as she hurried across the room in search of him.

As Cassidy passed a table backed against the adjacent wall, she recognized a familiar pair of glasses and purposefully disheveled, jet-black hair. Cassidy slowed down to get the full effect of the miserable, slumped position he assumed in his chair, as Jessica Blanchett herself talked his ear off across the table, periodically flicking her feathery hair. It looked more like a spastic tick than a glamorous, definitely-calculated-habit, but it was unlikely anyone had ever informed Jessica of this. It didn't look like she'd even touched the book they'd somehow, miraculously decided on. Figures.

Poor, poor Emery. Even though it rankled that he'd agreed to be Jessica's partner, of all people, Cassidy still couldn't help but want to coddle her pitiful bestie. She was a bit surprised that he was working with her, since he knew Jessica's relation to Robin Newton, the Devil incarnate, and her history of treating Cassidy like dog poop. But she also knew the power of the Remora, and that a Robin-toady could easily scare the other members of Emery's Horde into submission. There was a good chance Jessica had become his only option.

Poor, poor boy.

Cassidy hurried past their table, so not to be seen by her suffering partner in crime. He'd probably think she was rubbing it in, standing there and laughing on the inside. She didn't want to make him any more displeased with her than he already very likely was. So she ran off. A completely understandable, not-cowardly move on her part.

It only took a minute to scan the rest of the room and see that the person she was seeking wasn't there. This meant he had taken her personal preferences into account! The only tables left would be tucked between smaller book shelves, sidled up next to a window. Exactly what she had wanted. Could Jared be any sweeter? No.

She carefully edged between occupied chairs and over haphazardly placed backpacks. Several "Sorry", "My bad", and "Excuse me"s later, she was on the other side, prepared to find her Prince Charming.

Wow. She was becoming so cheesy. Then again, some people would argue that she'd always been that way. She didn't necessarily agree, but she couldn't fight it now.

Shaking off this realization, Cassidy gripped their books tighter and put her Super Schnozz to good use. Picking through hundreds of generally unpleasant scents was never a fun time, but it had its moments. After a few dozen stinky, musty, and/or poisonously sweet sprays of some kind, she found Jared's musk. He didn't really wear cologne. She'd spent enough time sniffing him to recognize what he smelled like, as opposed to deodorant or something. Of course, she'd die before letting him know that.

Jared Wells smelled like comfort, coziness, and security. Home. He smelled like home.

But, at the moment, he smelled like something else entirely. It raised Cassidy hackles like a burglar in the night.

This something else that was sickening and familiar.

"I've missed you…" The words wafted from the farthest of the study nooks, tucked between the shelves Cassidy passed. The voice… that voice, she knew it.

"Don't be a stranger... How've you been?" The voice continued, sweet and seductive and toxic all at once.

Cassidy halted by the last nook, leaning against the opposite side of the bookshelf. She'd heard it before. It was a velveteen, hateful voice.

"I'm good. You?"

Jared. He was talking to her. He didn't sound wary, panicked… he didn't even sound upset. It was a relaxed, familiar response. Not something you'd say to the witch that tried to drown a girl you had significant feelings for. Not something you'd say to the enemy. What was he doing?

"Much better now that I'm here." The voice cooed. "It's been so long since you've come to see me… I'm lonely, Jare!"

She wanted to gag. Jare? Why was he allowing this? What was going on?

"You know I can't just hop up and leave. The Phillipses watch me all the time."

Cassidy recoiled at Jared's tone. What was he saying? Her stomach twisted in anxiety.

"Hmph." The sickening voice pouted, "Are you sure that's the real reason?"

"What other reason would I have?"

It felt like ice was claiming Cassidy's veins, numbing her.

"I think you know."The pout was replaced by something more lethal. "That pasty, redheaded freak who follows you like a puppy, for instance."

Her fingernails dug into the shelf behind her until the wood splintered, but Cassidy couldn't feel it. Say something, Jared, she begged in her head. Tell her! Please! She didn't even understand what she was pleading for. She felt nothing but numbness laced with panic.

"Cassy? She won't be an issue." Jared answered calmly; disinterested, as if they were discussing the coming rain.

How could he call her Cassy? How could he be so relaxed, when something was being suffocated inside of her? Only a wall of books separated them. It felt like a million light years. She wasn't really there, in that library, hunched on the floor, listening to this… It was a dream- a nightmare. She had lots of those…

The fragile, cracking thing in Cassidy's chest didn't agree.

"Won't be an issue?" The velvet voice became low and sharp. "She was an issue at the plant, wasn't she?" The sharpness turned into a jagged hiss. "It would be unfortunate if you let yourself be distractedby her..."

"I said it won't be an issue." Jared snapped. "Being distracted isn't a problem, at this point."

At this point? Cassidy felt her body shudder against the edge of the shelves, but the pain was lost on her.

"It isn't?" The girl chuckled. "Music to my ears, Jare.But…" Cassidy could hear a soft, shuffling sound; risking a glance through the shelf was a grave mistake. The girl was on Jared's lap now.

"But," Ashlyn Grimm repeated, "how am I supposed to believe that? You seem mighty protective of her and her raggedy family."

"Of course I am." He replied in a harsh voice Cassidy wasn't familiar with. "I grew up with the Joneses. But my association with Cassidy won't become a problem. I've said it again and again, Ash."

Cassidy was biting her lip. Hard. She hadn't felt it until the blood began dripping down her chin. He calls her Ash… The word choice seemed an insignificant detail, in the grand scheme of things, but it was like a slap all the same.

"Really? 'Cause you seem to have her awfully convinced of your devotion." Ashlyn retorted, venom dripping from her full, ruby lips.

Cassidy felt bile rise in her throat.

"Of course I do." He hissed right back, "She'll believe anything I say. Always has."

Ashlyn's laugh was low and cruel. "And you're so sure what you feel for her 'won't be an issue'?" She mocked.

"Feel for her?" Jared replied blandly, like he'd suddenly grown bored of the conversation. "Why would I feel any more for her than I do for my cat? She's practically an animal."

Practically. An. Animal. That really was all it took. Cassidy had to slam her palm painfully into her mouth. It was the only way to mute the sob that wanted to force its way out. Her throat felt scorched with tightening dryness. Her vision distorted with the molten water building under her lids.

Ashlyn let out a satisfied snort. "Good. That's what I thought." Cassidy could hear every strand of Jared's hair the parasitic witch ran through her fingers.

"Then why nag so much?" Jared complained, shifting in his chair. Probably wasn't easy, with that hag on his lap.

"Because, Jare," The disgusting pout found its way back into Ashlyn's voice. "I don't want you to throw away everything our parents built for us over a screwed up science experiment." Cassidy didn't need to turn around to know the alien-infested girl was in his face, running her golden-brown hands over his shoulders. She'd never loathed her enhanced hearing so deeply.

"Then you have nothing to worry about." Jared answered.

The cavity of her chest was being ripped apart. Cassidy knew it had to be. Nothing had ever hurt so much. Not being shot, not having her skull cracked apart, not drowning. The worst wounds were the ones people couldn't see. It was what people always said.

It was true.

"A screwed up experiment is hardly worth anything if..." He mumbled, his voice cutting off. Cassidy choked on her tears when she heard the sound following it. She forced herself to slide back up the shelf onto her feet. She left the two lonely copies of Rebecca on the floor. Her face was likely a drizzling, swollen mess of mascara. It didn't matter. Her knees shook and her hands trembled like an ill, elderly person. That didn't matter.

He was kissing her, wasn't he? Or she him. Who instigated it didn't really matter either. Cassidy took a wobbling step forward and braved a backwards glance.

So they were. Ashlyn sat there, imposed on his lap, her silky, midnight hair curtaining their faces. It was shinier than any hair had a right to be. In her numb state, Cassidy couldn't help but wonder if someone might see their reflection in it, if they were close enough. It wasn't a theory she desired to prove.

Jared wasn't fighting her. No. Cassidy imagined he enjoyed Ashlyn's ministrations. Of course he would. Ashlyn was much prettier than she was. Even Emery thought so, she reminded herself, though he never said it outright. He didn't have to.

Ashlyn is beautiful.

Ashlyn is beautiful.

Ashlyn is beautiful.

You're not.

Cassidy didn't understand why she repeated these words like a mantra. It was a bizarre thing to fixate on, while hobbling numbly to the girl's bathroom. Truly, it was. She couldn't seem to stop, either. Perhaps she just needed something to hold onto, to keep from falling on the floor and wailing for everyone to hear and pity. Pity. Yes. That was something she could not handle. Not from Jared, not from Emery, and not from anyone else in the building. Pity cut as deeply as pain.

Cassidy somehow managed to find the restroom she sought, groping for the door handle and stumbling inside. She didn't really see it. It was fortunate the room was empty. There was no telling what other occupants would have thought of a red-eyed, disheveled, desperate looking girl. They'd probably approach her. Ask what was the matter. Did she need help? Practical, innocent questions. And she would tell them. Sobbing, sparing no humiliating, excruciating detail. She couldn't take that now. There was no telling what she'd do.

It was a miracle she made it into a stall before crashing and dropping to her knees. When the door was locked, she drew those shaking knees to her chest, a trembling chin rested between them. Then she rocked. Back and forth. Back and forth. A pathetic, strangled cry escaped her lips as she swayed. It probably sounded like the dying whines of a kitten, but there was no way she could bring herself to care.

Animal. Animal. Animal. The taunts were a demented, sing-song in her mind. Jared. Jared. Jared.

I love Jared.

Jared doesn't love me.

Jared says I'm an animal.

He doesn't love me.

Animal. Animal. Animal.

Cassidy is an animal.

Cassidy is an animal.

I am an animal.

Animal. Animal. Animal.

The frenzied thoughts pounded in her head, making her cries ragged and breathy, much like the animal he thought her to be. It was poetic justice, wasn't it? It hurt so bad, she couldn't think coherently. She couldn't focus. She could only shake and cry and listen to her own demented inner-voice.

He doesn't love you.

Of course not.

Why would he?

Look at you, lying on the floor like a dog!

You wonder why he thinks you're an animal, a screwy experiment?
You can never get a hold of yourself. Crying on everybody about everything!

Strong women don't cry.

I bet Ashlyn never cries.

Everyone pities you. That's why Emery and Serena and Gavin stick around.

They all know what a pathetic, hot mess you really are.

You're no kind of hero.

You're a joke.

The sobs now were wrenched out of her like pulled teeth, horrible, ugly, and loud. It felt like all the pain of the last eight months came toppling back down on her at once. Heavy dominoes of hurt and disgust. Cassidy didn't need mutant hearing for the echoing cries to reach her ears. For every second the wretched sounds continued, the loathing inside of her grew.

She ran through every memory she could dredge up, desperately searching for the signs of Jared's true feelings. Every sweet smile, careful touch, protective act, affectionate promise… were they all lies? Where did it begin? When he learned of her mutations? Was it when he saw her in her true form, attacking the Luminous underwater and screaming threats of murder?

Her eyes burned at the thought. She was such a fool. So stupid to think someone like Jared could deal with someone like her. Who would want this? Who could stand being with a bloodthirsty mutant; out of control half the time, an emotional wreck the rest of it?

It was selfish to expect love and devotion from anyone. Her family, Emery, his parents… did they all feel the same? Of course they did. She was beastly. They couldn't love her. Not anymore. They took care of her out of duty. No one really wanted to waste their life on a girl that was more animal than human; a ticking time bomb, ready to blow and destroy everything in its path. She could lose it, kill any of them. Crush them in her small fists, if she so desired, at the slightest provocation.

No, they could not love someone- something- like that. It was naive to think so. Selfish. So very selfish. She was a tragedy waiting to happen. She was ruining everyone's lives. Serena should be at her cushy university lab, advancing in her studies like the respectable scientist she was. Gavin shouldn't have to worry about his family being harmed because of the unpredictable, volatile girl across the street that could hardly keep her mouth shut. Emery should be at Stanford, getting a fancy degree and moving on with his life, surrounded by people with similar intelligence and interests, concerned about nothing but fending off the numerous California beach bunnies that nipped at his heels.

Oh, Cassidy felt her shoulders shake with a jarring sob, how they must hate me. Her tears physically hurt her; the drops came with the burning pain of a razor, searing down her face. What about her family? They were saddled with a nightmare for life. They wouldn't abandon her. It wasn't how the Jones family worked. They would stay by her side through everything… no matter how many terrible, unforgivable things she managed to do.

They would rub her back and tell her how everything would be just fine… but, truly, they would resent her on the inside. If they didn't now, they would in the long run. The fear, uncertainty, and danger her very presence guaranteed would ruin their lives. They would grow to despise her.

Cassidy continued to tremble. She struggled to breathe through her tears. She wished they would abandon her. She wished they all would abandon her. She couldn't handle the guilt. She couldn't contain the grief and misery. She could never bear their hatred. It would kill her. Not on the outside; it didn't seem like anything could do that. But, on the inside… she'd have nothing left to hold onto. She'd have nothing at all.

Jared had abandoned her. If not physically, then emotionally. Mentally. He didn't want her anymore. He stuck around for reasons she didn't understand. It would have hurt so much less if he'd just run away. He stayed, out of duty, guilt… she didn't know. But, because of that, she had to find out from his own mouth. She had to be there when he stabbed her through the heart. It was a close-range wound. It resonated so much harder.

She gasped raggedly and pushed herself up against the stall wall. Her arms shook and her throat ached. Jared had betrayed her in the worst possible way. He called her an animal. He kissed another girl... the clenching in her chest could have been a heart attack, for its pain, if she didn't know very well that such a thing couldn't happen to her. Kissed. Such an innocent word shouldn't be able to wreak this manner of havoc, yet it did. In her silly, juvenile delusions, Cassidy always thought that she and Jared would have their first kiss together. That it would be sweet and natural and romantic, setting sail to a long-lasting relationship incapable of being shaken or broken. How idiotic she was. Instead, Jared was being kissed by a beautiful and exotic Jezebel, seated comfortably on his lap, while Cassidy could only attest to being humiliatingly slobbered on by Chad Dunham, in front of a gaggle of rowdy boys.

Hatred detonated through her, as frightening and abrupt as a tornado.

How dare he. After everything they'd been through, after everything she'd shared with him, the things she'd told him that not another soul on this Earth knew. It was a slap in the face. A kick in the stomach. It was an unforgivable abomination. Her fingernails dug into the mildewed tile below, creating sharp grooves in the stone.

She'd trusted that bastard with her life. Her family's safety! If Ashlyn knew about her mutations, who else did? What had Jared done? The rage coiled inside Cassidy thrashed like a viper, bringing a different, all too familiar voice to the surface.

OUT. The desire of her beast was clear. She stared blankly at the opposite wall, vandalized with scratches and faded, drawn-on names. The disgust Cassidy always found in her beast was strangely absent. What did it matter now? She craved the self-assurance that came with the freedom of letting the thing inside of her free. Nothing hurt her when it was in control. It made her feel alive. This pain eating at her chest would disappear. She felt no grief, no regret, when her beast took care of her.

Perhaps it was time to show Jared, her family, the Phillipses… what they were really trying to deal with. What they thought they should be protecting, in one form or another. Cassidy Jones did not need anyone's protection. She didn't need their pity or sense of duty. She didn't need their love.

She remembered every veiled glance of disapproval from Gavin, when he thought her to be too open, too rash, too trusting. He thought she was just a dumb, teenage girl, didn't he? Nothing but Bambi-eyes and an empty head of air. For all his encouragement, his cooperation, she was an obstacle to him. A disruption to his family's ordered, don't-ask-don't-tell lives. A problem that needed to be fixed.

How rich.

Coming from the liar. The man that allowed something so terrible to happen to his only child and proceed to hide it from him his entire life. The man who had so many false identities and personas, it was a miracle he could even keep track of them all. A man that was likely more absent from his son's life than in it. Cassidy felt resentment rise in her chest. She wasn't the only one with demons in the closet.

What about Emery? Dear old Em. Her best friend in the whole wide world. The biggest secret-keeper in Queen Anne. The person so skilled in fabricating his own emotions, he probably didn't know what he was actually feeling half the time. The person who kept almost everything from her, until he saw fit to bring it up. He treated her like a foolish child, incapable of hearing or understanding things logically on her own. She told him everything. He gave her information selectively, covering his true feelings and thoughts from the person he claimed to be his best friend. She was a baby to him. He gave her an indulgent smile now and then, a pat on the head, and sent her on her way. Like a pet. Perhaps Jared wasn't the only one who thought of her as an animal.

Jared. Sweet, perfect, hateful boy.

She'll believe anything I say. Always has.

Why would I feel any more for her than I do for my cat?

She's practically an animal.

A screwed up experiment is hardly worth anything.

With that, Cassidy lost it. Digging her cracked fingernails into her hair, she let out a frightening, unnatural scream. She slammed her hands from her head into the wall across from her, ripping her fingers down its cold, hard surface. Her nails tore through it, creating deep, animalistic scratches, colored scarlet by her own blood. Her fingers throbbed and stung at the abuse, bent at wrong angles, the fingernails broken and shattered like glass. It hardly stopped her. She went for her own skin next, seeing how deep she could tear her flesh open before it tried to repair itself. She found a sick amusement in it. Her beast rejoiced, throwing itself against the cage-bars in her mind.

OUT, OUT, OUT.

Cassidy felt her lips turn in a sardonic smirk. Have it your way. She snapped the lock from her monster's prison. I can't get much worse.

The complete and utter rush that came after this was something she could never hope to describe. It was addictive and strengthening and pleasing. It was like being consumed by something that neither man nor nature could hope to contain. The world faded away. Her pain, her silly problems, the insignificant heartbreak, it meant nothing. She was free. So free! Hysteric, bubbling laughter escaped her mouth, echoing against the bathroom walls louder than her pitiful cries ever had. She hugged herself with bloodied arms and rocked joyously. Her giggles bounced off the ceiling like a wild symphony. She laughed so hard, the tears returned to her eyes, yet the continuous pain she'd felt was absent. She shook with the laughter. She had never felt so good! So strong! So unafraid!

She threw her hands up and slid back onto the floor. Her back lay flat and her arms reached for the sky, tracing some invisible picture that no one else would have been able to see. There was nothing that could hurt her. Family, friends, enemies… they were all so insignificant. It was all a matter of technicality, based on how you treated one another. The line between those categories was flimsy and transparent. Earthly attachments meant nothing.

Surviving, thriving, being wiser than those that might challenge you… that was true significance.

The eerie calm that spread inside her was the most serene Cassidy had ever felt. There was nothing in the world she'd trade it for. It was curious, how simple emotion could cause so much unnecessary distress. It made you weak.

She observed the ceiling from the cold floor, admiring the years of cracks and damage it sustained, while still being able to stand. Strength. Things were unreliable without strength. Unpredictable. Anything that could be predicted could be taken down; people being the most predictable of all. When you observed their behavior, there were always patterns, intricacies, webs, all connected together to paint a quaint little target on each of their backs. They were weak without realizing it. Cocky, while assuming they're clever.

Clever, good heavens.

Then again, there were some more exceptional than others. She noted Emery; a very extraordinary specimen. Blinded by arrogance, perhaps, but exceptional all the same.

Jared was a bit of an anomaly himself,wasn't he? Her eyes followed a particularly wild crack that scrolled across the ceiling. He'd fooled her into hapless, fawning submission, after all, with little more than smiles and sweet nothings.

How insulting, she would have to be dealt with. It didn't sit well with her, being so easily conquered. No, a true predator didn't sit around and lament. They licked their wounds, got back up, and reclaimed their rightful dominance. They certainly did not cry and feel sorry for themselves, like the star of a silly, late-night teen drama.

With that in mind, Cassidy sat back up with ease, on her feet a moment later. She moved with natural swiftness, unconcerned with matching human boundaries and expectation. Her blood was drying, fading to an unattractive rust color. The coldly majestic crimson it once shone was all but gone. She no longer wanted it on her skin.

Cassidy stood above a bathroom sink the next second, twisting the faucet and letting the lukewarm water rinse all traces of her ardent overindulgence down the drain. Such displays of wildness and instability should be saved for special occasions. When and where it would benefit her, rather than become a hindrance, as it was now.

There was blood on her clothes, no doubt, but her black sweatshirt wouldn't show the evidence, nor would her dark leggings. She watched her reflection in detached fascination, as the swelling around her nose and eyes deflated and returned to their natural, porcelain white. The redness of her darkened eyes dissolved. The benefits of being a mutant, she supposed. Such convenience.

Cassidy wet a paper towel and disinterestedly ran the brown sandpaper around her eyelids, over her cheeks, and down her throat. Her makeup had become quite the Picasso piece, as it turned out. Inconsequential, really. She didn't need cosmetics to begin with. She had no Kardashian aspirations. Excessive face product was clownish and vain.

When satisfied that the unnatural goo had been removed, Cassidy peered back into the old mirror. It was a pretty face, wasn't it? Very clear skin. Full lips. Small, symmetrical nose. Large eyes. Yes, it was a face human males found undeniably attractive. She couldn't imagine why she hadn't noticed before. Paired with her soft, scarlet locks and petite frame, she was quite the little beauty.

The knowledge meant nothing to her. Physically appealing traits were irrelevant compared to the power she possessed. All the beauty in the world made no difference. Even so… it was a rather useful tool. Humans loved beauty. Men loved beauty; waged wars for it. Died for it.

A slow, appreciative smile crept over Cassidy's lips. She tilted her head and fluttered her lashes. Her reflection followed suit. She looked so lovely. So innocent. So sweet.

What is beautiful is good. What a stupid, convenient stereotype!

A very useful tool indeed.

She dropped her gaze back to the running water that flowed from the faucet, still cleansing the sink of her scarlet fury. She wet another paper towel and twisted the knobs off. The last of the water swirled down the narrow drain. Cassidy went back to the stall, unconcernedly, and mopped up the remaining blood on the floor and walls. She was uninterested in the sight, but knew that the next person to enter would not be. The only proof of her mental collapse was the scratches on one side of the stall. She doubted anyone would think much of them.

As she gathered the saturated, brown papers from the ground, the door to the bathroom slammed open, with a certain carelessness that guaranteed the presence of self-absorbed teenage girls. Cassidy paused, silently drawing in the scents.

"OM-freaking-G, Jessica is such a skank."

Hm, Robin Newton with a side of backstabbery. How typically unoriginal.

"Right?" A second voice agreed, "Just 'cause her boyfriend's out of town…"

This scent reeked of Calvin Klein's Euphoria and Passion Berry lip-gloss.

"She is so needy." Robin muttered. Cassidy could hear her dump a leather handbag on the countertop and unzip what was likely a makeup case.

The third scent was more familiar than the second, smelling of citrus shampoo and Starbucks. Mindy Ames let out a discontented huff, hefting her own bag onto the sink counter. "I didn't even think she liked him that much! Did you?" The whine echoed across the bathroom.

Cassidy stood back up and folded the darkened paper towels into neat little squares. Human girls were such curious creatures. Faux friendship and hidden animosity fit them like a second skin.

"Duh," Passion Berry answered, "You've got eyes. She's been after Emery since she saw him. I guess she thinks, with Ryan gone, she can do… whoever… she wants."

Robin snorted, "You got that right."

Mindy continued with the persistent little whine that made her sound like a lapdog of some kind. "It's not fair! He's gorgeous, and she's not even that hot."

Passion Berry approached the sinks next and began attacking her hair with some foul spray that made Cassidy's throat burn. She bristled ever-so-slightly in irritation. Curse them and their fanatical need for artificial means of beautification.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Passion Berry responded, "Everybody knows Emery wants Cassidy." She said the name like it was profane.

"Yeah," Robin grinded out, "Speaking of ho-"

At that, Cassidy popped open the door to her stall, a picture of composure, as she drifted to the trashcan and deposited her mess.

Robin's mouth still hung open stupidly, as she and her remoras followed Cassidy's movements like starved hawks. They rather looked the part, with their bony figures showcased in painted-on skinny jeans. She wondered if they knew males tended to ogle women with actual meat on their bones, but saw no need to comment on it.

Robin recovered first, a familiar sneer morphing over her face. "Spying, Jones? Really? What are you gonna do? Go and tell Jessica we were talking about her, like the little snitch you are?" She whipped her blonde hair like a weapon.

"Your petty squabbles are hardly my concern." Cassidy cocked an indifferent eyebrow, moving to the last open sink. "I was here first, as you can see. It isn't my fault if you decide to broadcast your jealousies in a public restroom." She casually scrubbed the blood out from under her fingernails.

Robin glared, slamming a tube of lip liner back into her bag. "Excuse me?" She demanded.

Passion Berry- who Cassidy now recognized as Trixie Reynolds- stepped forward, her razor-straight black bangs shifting erratically. "Jealous, of what? You? You can't be serious. Look at you!"

Cassidy did so, glancing up at the mirror. She admired her sharp cheekbones and cold, slanted eyes. Quite feline, weren't they? A wonder she hadn't noticed it before. "Jealous of anything you feel inferior to, I'd assume." She observed, turning her attention back to removing the dried, brown substance from her nails.

"Is that right?" Robin laughed sardonically. "Like I'd feel inferior to the girl no one even knew existed, 'til she busted open my nose in P.E.? The girl who was so shy, she couldn't even look me in the eye in middle school, when our lockers were next to each other? The girl too embarrassed to talk to her crush for, like, a year? Don't insult me." Mindy and Trixie both snickered at that.

Cassidy watched them with detached curiosity, wiping wet hands across her striped leggings. "And yet…" She replied, studying Robin's tense glower, "you noticed me, apparently. You, the most popular girl in our grade. If I was so invisible, I doubt I'd have made such a distinct impression." She was bored of this conversation. Robin had nothing groundbreaking to say, nothing to hold her attention.

Cassidy turned her back on the trio, disappointed in the utter lack of challenge. To think she'd been intimidated by these girls at one point; afraid, even. How pitiful.

Her frank dismissal must not have sat well with Robin, because the girl's bony hand found her way into Cassidy's hair a moment later, yanking back with gusto. It was a letdown to know the bully still fought so predictably.

She felt no pain at the assault, little surprise, but plenty enough aggression to make this encounter a bit more fun. She swiveled on her heels immediately, sharply grasping the offending arm in one hand, using the other to slam Robin into the opposite wall. She dug her fingers firmly into the other girl's skin, holding her in place. Cassidy ignored the blatant pain that lit Robin's forget-me-not eyes. She had no pity to scrounge up. The only way to deal with people like her was to show them how helpless they really are. Their big, mean words were only protection against those that feared them.

"Get away from me!" Robin choked out furiously, still putting up a magnificent front. She thrashed and hissed like a wildcat. Unfortunately for Robin, the real wildcat was two strands of self-control away from making a mess of her pretty face.

Mindy and Trixie were making outraged demands and threats, like they actually expected to be taken seriously. Since Trixie was the bolder, more aggressive of the two, she was the first to grab a hold of Cassidy's shoulder and yank at the neck of her sweatshirt. Cassidy kept Robin firmly pinned with one hand, turning her attention to the nuisance behind her. She swiftly twisted Trixie's tiny, bangled wrist, enough to strain it immediately without snapping bone or cartilage.

The girl shrieked and yanked back, fully prepared to slap at Cassidy with her free hand. The look she gave Trixie stopped her dead in her tracks, hand pausing mid-swing. Cassidy had had quite enough of these pests. She narrowed her eyes. If the mirror reflection was accurate, her dark pupils had thinned dangerously, slit-like in appearance. She didn't blink. She didn't move. Trixie paled, clutching her wrist to her chest, unable to move herself.

"Stay where you are," rumbled out of Cassidy's chest, her eyes moving predatorily from Trixie's brown ones, to Mindy's hazel. Neither girl shifted an inch. They stared at her, like deer in the headlights; helpless, afraid, waiting to be hit.

She slowly dragged her attention to Robin, who had momentarily ceased in her efforts to get free. "Obviously," Cassidy bared her teeth, "you've never ben acquainted with 'speak softly and carry a big stick' ideology. You'd do well to learn it."

Robin opened her mouth to retort, but Cassidy slammed her back again. "Don't." She warned, leveling her gaze with the thrashing girl's. It could have been the apathy in Cassidy's eyes, or maybe it was just the slits, but Robin obeyed.

"You are fragile, Newton." Cassidy noted, shaking the girl up and down like a ragdoll. She observed her noticeable wincing, as she hung in her grip. "You're weak. See?" She yanked up on Robin's arm, causing the girl to yelp. She loosened her hold before the socket was damaged. "How many times must I show you?" Cassidy dug her nails into Robin's shoulder. Her normally harsh blue eyes smarted with tears she refused to shed. Cassidy could respect that, even if Robin was no more formidable than a paper snowflake.

"This is your last warning." She continued, studying Robin's reddening shoulder with interest. She penetrated the skin shallowly, letting the blood gather. "I will deal with you with less mercy next time." Cassidy searched the defenseless bully's eyes one last time. They wouldn't meet hers.

Submission. Good.

"Believe me when I say, there are a lot of things I can make look like an accident." She whispered.

Robin shuddered and nodded briefly, staring fervently at her feet.

"Awesome! So glad we got to clear all that up." Cassidy replied cheerfully, retracting her fingernails from Robin's skin and stepping back. "Isn't it so much better when we work out our problems by talking?" She tilted her head innocently.

Robin's skin only became paler. She looked up for a second, staring at some spot slightly to the right of Cassidy's head. She might have nodded again, or it could've been a twitch. Either way, the message had gotten across.

Cassidy straightened her disheveled hair neatly, turning back towards her audience. She walked casually across the restroom and grabbed the handle to the entrance door. The room was so eerily silent, you could hear one of the lone faucets, drip-drip-dripping into the sink below. She watched the girls, all standing in the spots she'd left them in.

"I was never here. Understand?" Cassidy informed them, as she smoothed her rumpled sweatshirt. "This didn't happen." She met each of their stares coldly, emitting the warning that matched her tone.

Mindy giggled a bit hysterically, nodding her head- up and down, up and down. Trixie finally had to look away; short, fine hair hiding her face. Robin was watching her with something akin to terror, carefully masked under a thin layer of resentment. "Yeah," She murmured, looking back at her sandals in silence.

"I can- and will- find you." Cassidy added calmly, like they were talking about something that actually involved books and libraries. When it was clear the cautionary words had been perfectly heard and understood, she gave them an equally perfect, sweet smile.

"Good luck on your report, guys!"

And she left the bathroom.


As Cassidy casually flipped through her carefully organized English binder, she couldn't help but study Jared's little nervous ticks and glances at her. He dropped his pencil on the floor. Forty-seven seconds later, he knocked his copy of Rebecca across the table with his elbow. Twenty seconds after that, he rummaged through his backpack, pretending to be very invested in finding some imaginary object.

She could hardly understand how she'd managed to be so thoroughly deceived by him. He was far too easy to read. Anxiety drifted out of his pores like sweat. It was truly insulting, being taken down by this one.

When she'd come back to their table, the little Luminous witch was nowhere to be seen, leaving behind a slightly flushed, anxiety-ridden Jared, who looked like a puppy that'd demolished its owners expensive couch cushions. She half-expected a tail to be tucked between his legs, to go with those big, woeful eyes. It was pathetic, really.

His words were too quick, his tone too eager. Cassidy wouldn't have noticed before. He did her a favor, truly. It was intriguing to be on the calculating side of things. She was interested to know what else she must have looked past.

"Jared," Cassidy constructed her tone to be soft and soothing, "are you alright?" She puckered her brow. "You seem upset. Did I do something wrong? If you don't like the book," Her eyes became cute little saucers that she knew people could hardly say no to, "you can help me pick out another. I don't want us to do anything you don't like. I want you to have fun."

She made certain the smirk in her mind did not make a cameo across her face. Perhaps she was playing it up more than she should. The game was just a bit too fun.

Jared's eyes shot up from the deep unknown of his backpack. "I-I…" He stammered. The guilt that flashed in his gaze was unmistakable. He was so afraid of her finding out, wasn't he? She toyed with the idea of dropping hints of her knowledge on his extracurricular activities. Was she in the mood to torture, or to observe? Time would tell.

"The book is great, Cassy." He finished, clearing his throat and smiling at her. It was pained, tight. "I've had a lot on my mind, I think. Sorry if I came off as distracted. I'm sure I'll like it if you do."

Oh yes, I'm sure. Cassidy gave him a warm smile. "I'm so glad." She gushed, "I was, like, so excited when I saw it. I just knew you'd love it too! You have to start reading today, so we can talk about it. We can also watch the 1940 Hitchcock film together; it'll get you really into story and make it easier to read! Did you know that, while the plot is typically viewed as romantic, Daphne du Maurier actually insisted it was a study on jealousy, and was miffed by anyone saying otherwise? It turns out, she based the story partially on her own feelings for her husband's ex-fiancé! The girl committed suicide by throwing herself in front of a train, though acquaintances said that it wasn't because she and du Maurier's husband split apart. Even so, Daphne was always convinced that her husband was still attracted to his ex, even after her death, just like in Rebecca! Isn't that eerie?"

Cassidy couldn't help but be amused at the expression on Jared's face as she rambled on, his expression only becoming guiltier, the more she spoke. Her carefree tone must have hit a cord of his. He looked like a miserable Ken doll; trying to keep a plastic smile in place, while withering on the inside.

"Yes." He managed to interject quietly. "Very eerie. I can't wait to get started."

Cassidy gave him her most winning, affectionate smile. "You are the best, Jared Wells. The best!" She followed with bubbly laughter, carefully watching for his reaction.

Agony, she decided. That was a good word to describe what he appeared to be experiencing.

"Let's do the project plan, then maybe we'll still have time to read chapter one." She suggested lightly, playing with a stray curl of her hair. Jared's eyes followed the movement miserably. He looked ill.

How very pitiful.

"You'll love it. I promise." Cassidy assured. She looked at him like he was her world.

He looked like he wanted to die, underneath a smile and a carefully neutral expression.

"You trust me, right?" She asked playfully.

He smiled harder. "Of course."

Silly boy.

Cassidy's mouth curled upwards.

I'm going to make you suffer, Jared Wells.

She pulled out a pink pen and wrote their names on a fresh sheet of paper.


History class smelled like ham, chip crumbs, and ranch dressing. Half-day lunches were traditionally pretty foul, with their decade-old packets of mayonnaise and cookies flat enough to be pancakes, with the density of concrete. But Jared couldn't really complain. He wasn't eating it. To be specific, he wasn't eating anything. He could hardly stomach food in general, as the days past.

Why did she have to come to the library? The freaking library, where Cassy could have walked in at any time? A fresh wave of nausea rolled over him at the memory. Ashlyn was unpredictable; dangerously unpredictable, with a penchant for giving him weekly aneurisms. She was brash. She likely knew that her random appearances panicked him. It was probably a source of great delight to her.

Awful little brat.

His stomach twisted anxiously. The idea of Cassidy finding out… he shook his head. He couldn't even think about it. The shame it brought on, the humiliation. How could she understand? What could he tell her? No matter what he told himself, he knew that what he was allowing to happen was wrong. It was betrayal. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. How could he let it go this far?

Jared raked his hands roughly through his hair, trying fervently to wipe out the memory of Ashlyn's fingers in it. The chatter of the room tore at his brain, giving his persistent migraine only more fuel. His friends laughed and shouted at each other in their typical fashion. He wished they'd just shut up.

"That's not what your momma said last night!"

"Whadda you know 'bout my momma, Neigh? Shut your trap!" A slam followed that one.

"I know what she was wearing under-"

Bobby was thrown unceremoniously out of his chair.

"BOYS!" The haggard sub-teacher shrieked. "DON'T MAKE ME SEPARATE YOU AGAIN!"

The girls at their table tittered at the reprimand, giving the guys smug looks. Jared rubbed his temples roughly, trying to ignore the mandatory pandemonium. He peeled his eyes open, taking inventory of the people around him, whilst using all his willpower to mute them out.

Bobby, Nate, and Sunny were to his right. Reggie and Nick were across from them. They were artfully flinging carrot sticks at one another, halting their antics only when the sub circled around to give them the eye. He could barely look to his left. Why did teachers feel the need to push tables together when students ate in the classroom? Did they think it would minimalize the mess? Did they believe creating a lunchroom-esque atmosphere would help with the digestion process? He wished he could hurl, if only to be excused to the nurse's office.

To the left, at the table pushed against his, Emery, Miriam, Jessica, and Cassidy sat, enjoying their lunches and whatever else they could get away with doing with a sub present. Why'd Cassidy have to be so close? He could barely meet her eyes half the time, and stuttered through conversations the other half. She's going to find out. The manic voice in his head insisted. He quickly looked away from her. She wasn't paying attention to him anyway, or anyone, really.

Cassidy was doodling serenely, resting her cheek on one hand and drawing a startlingly realistic black cat in her notebook with the other. She didn't appear to be aware of anything but the movement her pencil and the Lay's chips she picked at occasionally. It was something of a relief to Jared. He couldn't take her affectionate looks or soft brushes against his arm. He was going to go insane.

However, her preoccupation seemed to bother Emery more, who looked like he was two mhmm's away from stabbing himself to get her attention. That is, in his own aloof way. It seemed that Jessica Blanchett's affections were not well received. Jared didn't know how she'd managed to wrangle her way to this side of the room, to sit across from Emery, but the long-suffering substitute teacher was too frazzled to address it; or care, for that matter.

"So, like, this weekend," Jessica droned, winding a flat-ironed chunk of hair around her finger again and again, "my dad's throwing this cook-out pool party and inviting all his celeb clients. Anyway, I'm gonna be super bored, and I wanted to know if you'd come. Like, you can bring some friends if you want-" She halted the spiel to glance at Cassidy, before quickly amending, "I mean, we could use some guys to make it more fun and-"

Her pitch was interrupted by an audible snarl from Miriam, whom Jessica seemed to forget was sitting right beside her. "I bet." She grinded out, black corkscrew curls bouncing aggressively. "And I guess you need guys to keep your boyfriend company? You do have one, don't you? I believe his name is Ryan Maxwell Sullivan the Third or something like that, right? Been in our class since 4th grade?"

Jessica's bronze skin burned crimson as she gave Miriam a hateful look. "We're on a break." She retorted crisply.

"Oh, 'cause I was under the impression he was visiting his dying grandmother." Miriam snapped right back.

Jared noticed that Emery seemed to be greatly relieved by Miriam's jealous interference, as he let out a shallow breath and leaned over to casually critique the eye-nose proportions of Cassidy's drawing. She gave him yet another equally casual mhmm, which may or may not have caused his left eye to twitch, just a bit.

Normally, something so close to an actual emotional response from the genius would have amused Jared, but not today. He struggled to keep himself distracted from the truth ravaging both his nerves and conscience.

He stared at his limp school-ham-on-a-bun, cement cookie, and room temperature Sprite. Hardly the lunch of champions. Or lunch to keep a nauseated stomach from erupting. He tried to be entertained by his friends' banter. He tried to laugh at Bobby getting knocked on his butt once again. It didn't help.

He messed with a pencil lying on the table, using his thumbnail to peel away at the shiny, plastic skin that covered the wood underneath. If he kept his hands busy, then maybe he could ignore the war raging in his head.

If she finds out, you're going to lose her. For good. You think she'll forgive you? You think she'll stick around? When she's done with you, her whole family's done with you. It happened once. This time it'll be permanent. She'll hate you. They all will. You'll have no one.

His breath came out in a shudder, and he risked another glance in her direction. She was so calm, so content. He noticed a purple earbud hanging in her ear, the white cord twisting down to disappear under the table. It was probably attached to her phone. He watched her lips form the words that softly escaped.

"I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats…" She paused to shade in her impressive kitten's Scissorhand claws. "Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time…"

Jared jerked back slightly, recognizing the lyrics immediately. The Carrie Underwood hit was a favorite of his mother's. The title was so sickeningly ironic, he felt physically ill.

"… think before he cheats…" Cassidy finished, blowing the excess eraser shavings from her drawing. She set the pencil down and admired her work, looking up at him a second later.

Jared knew the blood had begun to drain from his face, and it worsened when she gave him a happy smile. Kill me now. Please kill me. She flipped a page in her notebook and scribbled something down quickly, tearing the page out after.

He watched her fold the paper miserably, wishing he could bury himself somewhere and die. Cassidy flicked the note across the table. It ominously slid to a stop directly between his elbows.

Jared picked it up with a slight tremble in his fingers. He hoped she didn't notice. It felt like it took him ten years just to unfold it.

Wanna meet up at the hoops before we head home?

The question mark was dotted with a perfect little smiley face.

He could barely hold the pencil straight in his hand. He couldn't feel it move as he replied,

Sure

The four letters were stilted, rigid. It didn't look like his handwriting. For the fiftieth time that week, he hoped she didn't notice.

When the note made it back to Cassidy, she only looked at it for a second before popping her eyes back up to his, happy grin still in place. He forced himself to maintain eye contact. Constantly avoiding her gaze would make her suspicious, if, somehow, nothing else did.

When she playfully blew him a kiss, his friends howled and whistled like jungle beasts, Miriam stopped her heated debate with Jessica long enough to giggle deviously, Emery tossed him his typical, expertly-veiled look of disgust, and Jared all but chugged his lukewarm Sprite to keep from losing the small amount of school-ham-on-a-bun he'd managed to force down.


Jared had been grateful for this half-day; looked forward to it, with the desperation of an escaped convict. He could get out of school, away from Cassidy's trusting, hopeful expressions, and go home to wallow in despair without the added guilt of her presence. But none of that mattered now, because she wanted to meet up at the school basketball court, to have a one-on-one conversation, which he'd been frantically trying to avoid since the library incident.

Putting it simply, a firing squad would be a more preferable outcome.

He walked down the reflective hall floors numbly, the multicolored tiles squeaking predictably beneath his sneakers, followed by a sound similar to the shrieking of a dying animal, whenever he dragged his feet.

What was she going to say? What did she want? She didn't seem upset, did she? If she knew anything… she'd have acted different. Right? Of course she would have. She wouldn't even look at me, let alone blow any kisses. She can't possibly know…

Know what? That he let Ashlyn Grimm- who, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't be near him with a ten-foot pole- practically claim him as her property? That he'd completely betrayed Cassidy's trust, and her family, by associating with the people hell-bent on tearing the world apart? How could he tell her? How could she understand? He never meant for any of it to happen! Never. Why did he go to his father? Why did he let himself be manipulated?

Jared hissed, grabbing his head and waiting for the migraine to pass. It came and went, with the sudden abruptness of a bullet to the brain. A bullet of any kind would be a welcome distraction from his hell, to be brutally honest.

He'd been terrified. He killed his tarantula, and he'd enjoyed it. Voices whispered in his head. He felt like he was hanging off a cling by the end of a rubber band. Like at any given time, he could spout out an even bigger spike of water- this time through his cat, his neighbor, his mother

No!

The nauseated feeling unfurled again, tearing at his stomach in full force. He had gone to his dad. He finally hadn't been able to take it anymore. The idea of hurting someone… killing them… leaving them curled in a broken little heap, just like Killer, made him sick. He told himself he wouldn't be tricked, he wouldn't be swayed, that he just needed control over the issue. Surely, deep down, his father would understand the necessity of not harming anyone. They were all better off if Jared wasn't slaughtering innocent people left and right, because he couldn't get ahold of the curse that Owen Wells imposed upon him. The man that called himself a parent did not see it that way.

Of course, he'd used his slick tongue take advantage of Jared's desperation; convinced him that he needed help from other Luminous, that Patrick and Constance only wanted to see to his and others' safety, that working with them was the best thing for everybody. To someone that had grown afraid of his own shadow- terrified of hurting people that meant the world to him- this route didn't seem so dire at first.

When he thought he could handle the problem on his own, when he tried to walk out, Jared saw who he was dealing with. The den of snakes was a prison, a cult, presenting themselves in family-oriented costumes. His own father- locking him in a wine cellar that was closer to a dungeon- in order to explain how things were going to work, from this point forward. When he refused, Owen played a card he knew Jared couldn't ignore.

"You will stay with me, son, because you know exactly what we can do. And we know about your sweet girlfriend's mother and little brother. Chad, is it? Lovely people. And what a lovely addition to the family they would be, don't you think? All I have to do is say the word."

It was the card that stopped his heart, froze his blood. Jared did know. He saw how they operated. If they wanted someone bad enough, all they had to do was lure them out and finish the job. If they'd had just a little Luminous water in their system, the assimilation could be forced. It was excruciating. Torture. If that happened to Elizabeth… to Chaz... if Cassidy lost half her family because of him… Jared would rather die.

So he agreed. He let it happen. He told his mother that he wanted to stay with Owen for a while. She'd been crushed, tried to convince him against it. He learned more things about his "bastard father" in her desperate pleas than he ever cared to. It made it hurt so much worse. He had to be a jerk to her. If he hadn't, she'd have known he wasn't going by his freewill. She would have called the police. Mrs. Jones and Chaz would have been screaming in one of Patrick's bunkers by nightfall. He could never let that happen.

And now he was trapped.

He was trapped in Patrick Grimm's sick "family", he was trapped between people that he despised… he was on a precipice, waiting to fall. He hated it. He hated it with a passion and there wasn't anything he could do about it!

Jared slammed his foot into a locker in frustration. The bang resonated through the empty hallway. He ignored the throbbing pain.

All of these things, everything he had to do, the Joneses would have understood. Cassidy would have understood. But Ashlyn- crazy, hateful, evil Ashlyn- took that from him, snuffed out his hope like a doused fire. He should have known, the moment he met her, that there was something seriously wrong with her, that her empty, airheaded chatter wasn't all there was to it. But he didn't, and she'd latched onto him within days of his "stay." Ashlyn made him uncomfortable immediately, with her constant, obvious flirting, touchy feely-ness, and rapid mood swings. He thought she was like that with everyone, tried to be nice about it, and it escalated.

When it became too much, he rejected her. He was firm, maybe harsh. He had expected her to be embarrassed, cry, or sulk… he thought she'd get over it quickly. Ashlyn was just a flirt, so he thought. Jared hadn't expected the tantrum. It was immediate, erratic, and violent.

She'd screamed at him, ripped the curtains off the windows, thrown books across the room… when a hapless estate-worker tried to intervene, she'd smashed a pitcher over the man's head.

When Jared made it to his father, out of breath and horrified, he'd been given a lecture that he wouldn't forget. Owen didn't take his side. He didn't even acknowledge the fact that Ashlyn was genuinely disturbed. At each word his dad spoke, Jared realized that his future was worse than he'd even imagined.

Since then, it was always 'Do what Ashlyn wants to do', 'Walk with Ashlyn', 'Sit with Ashlyn', 'Don't upset Ashlyn', 'Be nice to Ashlyn.'

Nice. Nice. Nice. Nice. Nice.

It drove him out of his mind! He'd confronted his father in anger, more than once, after having to deal with her harassment. His declarations that the treatment was barely a notch short of sex slavery only earned hearty laughter from Owen. He'd said there were "much less attractive girls one could be harassed by." It infuriated Jared, utterly infuriated him. He wondered, resentfully, just how long ago the Grimms and his father had planned their little "match."

It became clear that staying with his father and letting Ashlyn throw herself at him were a package deal. If he backed out of either, Cassidy's family would be torn apart. To protect her, he betrayed her. The worst part was knowing that, even if he had a do-over, the outcome would have undoubtedly been the same. As he'd suspected, his father and Patrick had had a very long time to plan it all out. He never stood a chance, and it killed him.

Jared slowed to a stop at the beige doors of the school's gym, transfixed blindly on the silver handles, like they somehow held the answers to his problems. He could hear the familiar bouncing of a basketball and shoes squeaking beyond them. Cassidy was likely already inside, waiting for him, that cheerful smile on her face. He let out a shuddering breath, bracing himself against the doorframe. Oh God, he would do anything to keep her. Keep her safe, keep her with him... keep her trust. He couldn't lose her.

He'd tried. He tried so hard to make his father see that he couldn't take Ashlyn's bold advances. He'd even begged his dad just to give him that one thing; that he wouldn't have to betray Cassidy, that he could keep this one part of his life sacred.

Owen's response was to suggest they assimilate her as well. Cassidy could be his girl on the side, his father explained, as long as Jared kept Ashlyn happy.

When Jared coarsely argued that he would do no such thing- not now, not ever- Owen took matters into his own hands. He found out, later, that his father had planned to force the assimilation on Cassidy, to punish him. Owen stormed back into the house that night, demanding to know what Jared knew about Cassidy, why she was immune, what he was hiding…

By the next morning, Jared had been forced to give up details about her, her family, the accident, that he had sworn never to tell anyone. The helplessness and rage that consumed him topped everything yet. They were planning something- all of them- Jared knew it. He had to warn Cassidy… but he couldn't do that without telling her the other things he was so ashamed of. She wouldn't forgive him. He wouldn't.

Jared slammed the gym doors open, letting them bang against the walls roughly. It felt good to vent the frustration and anger out on something big and heavy and loud. The crack echoed throughout the huge rooms like a shot. The bouncing basketball abruptly stopped.

He winced internally. He'd forgotten Cassidy was already inside. Jared looked up uneasily, meeting her wide, concerned stare.

"Are you okay?" Her soft voice projected across the room.

"Yes…" He answered slowly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, then yanking them back out awkwardly. Jared made himself move towards her, one foot after the other. "What's the score?" He managed to ask.

Cassidy grinned and spun the orange ball in her hands. "Me, twelve. Imaginary Friends, zilch."

"They never stood a chance." Jared replied, chest aching at the reminder of what he had to lose.

"I know." She answered cheekily, twirling the ball before flicking it through the goal behind him. Swish.

"Now you're showing off." He remarked with a smile.

"Jared Wells," Cassidy responded, an exaggerated, demure look crossing her face, "I'm always showing off. People just don't notice it." At that, she caught the bouncing ball, rolling it from one arm to the other, before stopping it with the tips of her fingers.

He chuckled softly, wishing he never had to leave her and her goofy personality.

"But, unlike them," She continued casually, "I do notice things."

Jared's stomach twisted. "What kinds of things?" He forced his tone to be light.

Her green eyes crinkled, alight with mischief. His anxiety eased a bit. "I'll make three guesses, and you tell me if I'm right."

Jared let out a breath quietly. "Okay. Shoot."

She took that cue to grab the nearest ball and send it flying through the goal on the other side of the room. "One, you just found out that you inherited a huge tampon company, making you a multimillionaire, but you're too embarrassed to say anything because it has to do with menstruation."

Jared snorted loudly. "Strike one."

"We're playing basketball, Mister." Cassidy gave him a mock glare. "Not baseball! No inter-sports mingling."

He could feel relief ebbing back into his mind. Everything was going to be fine…

"Okay, foul."

"Better." She smiled serenely, grabbing another ball and sending it soaring into the goal behind her, without turning. "Two, you just realized that your purpose in life is interpretive dance, but, to be certain, you want to live in the mountains with hobo-monks, to consult with the nature spirits."

Jared laughed, this time. "I don't know where you come up with this stuff, Cassy. You're a nut." But the effect was immediate; happiness that had been absent for so long was quickly peeking over his horizons.

"Okay, Prince Smugling," She replied, her eyes narrowing in challenge. Her lips curled to the side. "Last try, then."

"Do your worst." He teased.

"Hm." Cassidy answered; her face unreadable for just a moment, before melting into humor. "Three," She tilted her head to the side, twirling a strand of hair, as if contemplating her response, "I know!" She stopped suddenly and looked him in the eye, "You've joined this wild alien cult that wants to infect the whole planet, lied to your closest friends, and osculated parasitic psycho-chicks in libraries, while your girlfriend is off tirelessly digging through mountains of books for you, like a dutiful little nerd." Her eyes widened, "Oh my goodness, am I right?"

The blood had completely drained from Jared's face. She must have seen it. His stomach tore at itself. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think.

"Oh," Cassidy smiled brightly, "I win!"

He was going to be sick. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows.

"And I guess I get a prize now, don't I?"

He didn't understand. She didn't sound right. She was chirpy. She was smiling. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

"I know just what I want, too, Jared." She continued, her voice lowering slowly, as she grasped the last remaining ball at her feet. "I've had time to think about it and everything."

"What?" He asked hollowly, unable to do anything but remember to breathe.

He was answered immediately, with a sharp, violent slam to his gut. "Agh!" He moaned, crashing to the floor and grabbing at his stomach. The discarded basketball thumped away. Jared couldn't draw in another breath, it had hit him so hard. He gritted his teeth and tried to regain awareness of his surroundings. He didn't have time to sit up, before a small boot parked itself firmly across his throat.

"That was just to express my displeasure." Cassidy informed him tonelessly. Her eyes were hard, expressionless. Almost vacant. "I have something else in mind." She increased the pressure of her foot, making him gasp. "I need your full attention first, Wells. Can you do that for me?"

Jared looked up at her through blurry vision. He could hardly believe what he was hearing… or seeing. That wasn't Cassy's voice. That wasn't what she sounded like.

"Can you do that?" She repeated, annoyance becoming the only prevalent emotion he could detect. She dug her heel in harder.

He choked, nodding painfully.

Cassidy smiled, relinquishing her hold on him. The look on her face chilled Jared. It was like staring at a porcelain doll, the glassiness never changing.

He scrambled up, trying to ignore the sting in his abdomen and keep his eyes trained on her. "I can explain, Cassy, I swear-"

"Do not call me that." She said coldly, "Nicknames imply closeness, affection, familiarity. I don't know this person I'm staring at. And you certainly don't know me. Not anymore."

Jared's chest clenched. "Please, it's not what you think. I can-"

"You," She interrupted flatly, "can do what I ask you to do. You will, actually." She observed the empty, cavernous room with disinterest. "Won't you?"

His hands shook. "I'd do anything to make you understand."

Cassidy's mouth tilted suddenly, her eyes filling with unsympathetic amusement. "Of course you would." She studied her long, narrow fingernails. They were becoming sharp. "I'm sure you'd tell me all sorts of things, just like you did before. How special I was, how much you cared about me..." She laughed. It had a barking edge. "But, this time, I wouldn't believe you. Funny, how that works."

"Cassidy, I love you!" He argued fiercely, sounding desperate to even to own ears. "We love each other-"

"I don't love you." She smirked at him. Her smile was frigid, empty.

He flinched at her words, his voice becoming shaky. "What happened with Ashlyn was not what you think-"

Cassidy laughed at him again, "I'm sure she was drawing out deadly venom to save you, then. Don't waste your breath."

How could he tell her? Ashlyn made him sick. She was ruining his life. He would never choose her over Cassidy. Never in a million years. How could he make Cassidy understand that?

"To be honest," She broke through his rapid thoughts, her tone as even and unaffected as ever. "this isn't about that." Her eyes narrowed as they studied him, making him feel cold all over. She never had that effect on him. "Have your fun. I have a different use for you."

Cassidy circled him. Her steps made no sound.

"I assume you know the ins and outs of their little group, don't you?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Ashlyn's many comments said as much."

Jared's throat tightened. This was not happening. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He had to show her…he had to explain!

"From this point onward, you're going to do a little spying for me. Just like before. It should be easy, I have no doubt."

"W-what? Cassidy, no- you don't understand- I don't-" Jared was silenced by her cool hands tightly on his shoulders. She had been yards away, only seconds before.

"Jared," The warning came out in sugar sweetness, "You're going to watch them for me. Listen to what they're saying. Find out what they're doing. You're my eyes on the inside now. Okay? It'll be like when we were little, playing spies. You get to be the double agent. Remember that?"

He shuddered under her hard grip, "Yes…" He managed to answer.

"Good," Her grin stretched widely, like the Cheshire Cat. She straightened his mussed hair with care. Her expression was paired unnaturally with the stones that were her eyes. Jared had never seen her like this, heard her this way… there was ice in her stare, while an angelic smile parted her lips. It terrified him.

"Because," Cassidy continued, so softly he could barely hear it, "if you don't…" Her gaze left the hair she was fixing with such concentration, meeting his, "I'm going to tell my dad all about you and your little double life. Nate, too. I'm sure they'd adore all the sordid details, don't you think? What part will they like best? That you're on the side of the people that might take their family from them? That you're just as untrustworthy and deceitful as your father, who you claim to be so different from?"

It was like she'd stabbed him. Jared paled at her words, desperately wanting to defend himself, make her see, say anything... he couldn't so much as move his mouth.

"Now, now," She rubbed his cheek in a way that might have been comforting, if he didn't know for certain that she didn't intend it to be, "don't despair, sweetie." She blinked her eyes with the innocence of a kitten. "I know how abrupt, unfair, this must seem to you. We animals have trouble with delicacy, sometimes. I'll have to work on it."

Jared drew in a sharp breath. Cassidy heard that conversation. She'd heard every blasted word. He didn't mean any of it. He had to say anything to curb Ashlyn's jealously, to get her to leave. He never dreamed it would cause this. Never."Cassy, please…" He begged, "Please, listen…"

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" She snarled, her fingernails digging into his jacket so roughly, he could hear the fabric tear. That wasn't what concerned him. The wild, feral look in her eyes made Jared's breath catch in his throat. Her delicate chest heaved once, twice, then stopped. An alarming calmness flowed back into expression, her fingers retracting carefully from his sleeve. The fiery burn left her emerald eyes at once.

"You don't have to worry about anything changing." She whispered coolly. Her voice seemed hoarse. "You do your job, and I'll do mine." That disturbing smile made a wobbly reappearance. "I'll be the perfect girlfriend. We'll be so happy. No one has to know anything." She stared at him squarely, "Just you and me."

Jared shook his head numbly, "Cas-Cassidy… I don't understand."

The smile grew bigger. "We're a good match, aren't we? No one will think anything of it. I keep your secret, you keep mine. I cover for you, and you'll cover for me. Nothing will change." She repeated.

He was cold. Very cold. He didn't understand. Nothing made sense. What had happened to the girl in front of him? What took the lightness from her eyes? Where did she go? He wanted to wake up. This wasn't real. He wanted to wake up from the nightmare and start over.

Cassidy watched him with cool detachment.

He looked at her hands. They were still so small and soft-looking. They didn't seem harsh and sharp and jagged. She wasn't harsh and sharp and jagged. She wasn't. Cassidy was kind and good and felt things. She loved people. She loved him, at one point. He had to get that back.

Three senior girls jogged out of the girl's locker room, dressed for volleyball practice, laughing amongst themselves as they horsed around.

"Let's go home. I think Mom's making gingerbread today." Cassidy declared; her voice lightened affectionately. "She knows how much you love it. I promised I'd bring you over." Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Jared wouldn't have known the difference, if not for their encounter. The sparkle covered something he was afraid of.

She took his silence as acceptance. Maybe it was. Not the kind she expected… probably not. He let her tuck her hand in his arm, as she pulled him out of the gym, towards the school doors. She smiled and told him all about her day, like nothing had happened. Nothing at all.

But he felt the coldness of her hands, the limpness of her tiny fingers. Something so full of life wasn't supposed to be this way. She was never supposed to be this way.

He would get his Cassidy back, even if he had to glue her all together, piece by piece.


Fin!

I know, I know. Always beatin' on Jared. To be fair, I couldn't just make him betray Cassidy out of something as lame and flighty as teenage hormones. He's much too good of a character for that! I could do him no such dishonor. *hands him kitten poster* Hang in there!

This also happens to be the longest one-shot I have ever done in my entire life. Congratulations, me!

Thanks for reading!