A/N: Ok, so I started this idea months and months ago. I wanted soemthing different than what I usually read when it comes to fic. This one is one you have to think with a little, and sometimes things will be obvious and end as they appear, but more often than not, they will not. Later on down the line it will have sensitive and/or graphic subject matter, so I do warn you. And will re-warn you when the time comes. As for now, please read, review, and enjoy:)

-- Indicates time lapse

--- Indicates change of chater/general point of view.

---

Derek paced frantically across the room, a worried expression etched across his features. He couldn't get his feet to stop moving as long as his mind was racing at the speed that it was. Thoughts whirled around in his head like a violent tornado. Going too fast to make any sense of any of it, but knowing full well what it all was. What it all meant.

He finally got himself stop as he pressed his hands firmly against his temples. He felt like his head was going to explode, like he had to hold the pieces together. He felt dizzy and nauseated, he couldn't see straight. He had a blinding migraine from all the thoughts bashing themselves violently against the walls of his skull.

He groaned out in pain as he fell back onto his bed. He curled up into ball still holding his head until he finally passed out.

--

He woke up hours later in a cold sweat. It was nine at night, and he had gotten home around 3:30 p. m. He hadn't known how long he paced across his carpet but thinking about it just made his head hurt even worse.

He had wondered why no one had woken him up for dinner. He went to walk towards his door when he saw his reflection in the mirror. He stared it down. This was possibly why. He looked pale, sick. He was sweating furiously and he still felt dizzy. But he knew it wasn't because of some mysterious illness. It was from holding everything in like he had been recently. Bottling up every little hint of emotion, it was eating him away from the inside out. Slowly.

He started to feel the pain creeping its way back into his head before he shook it off and stepped out into the hall. The house was not entirely settled yet, but for the most part, the rest of the kids homework was being finished. Showers and baths were being taken while PJ's lie out.

He began to head towards the stairs only to bump into Casey. She looked at him with an annoyed face, but she also looked slightly relieved. "I see you're better." she said, lacing her words in sarcasm, though hidden under it was concern. He just looked at her before running down the steps. She looked after him and shook her head, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know.

Derek ran into the kitchen but the smell of food didn't make him hungry, it actually nauseated him even more. He sat at the island counter resting his elbows on the cool surface and burying his face in his hands.

He didn't know what was going on with him. What was making him feel like this? Guilt? Shame? He wasn't quite sure what to call it. But his thoughts were his enemy lately, it seemed. They had begun to betray him recently, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He felt as though he had no one to talk to. He had no one he really trusted to go to with this problem.

He wasn't sure if his parents would understand. All of his siblings were too young to talk about this with, save for Casey, but all they ever did was fight. He wasn't even sure why anymore. He couldn't go to his friends, they would never understand, and he was damned if he was going to talk to some stranger about his problems.

He was getting frustrated with everything. He just wanted to scream and punch things until everything was out of his system...until it all built up again.

--

Fortunately, he was told to stay home from school the next morning because his parents were worried about how he looked. It's just stress, he thought to himself. But if they want to keep me home, I won't complain. Because then he could also catch up on much needed sleep that he seemed to be missing lately.

His dreams swirled with the fantasies not touched while conscious. The ones that had previously made him ill in the waking world. But his mind was a safe heaven away from all the troubles and pressures of his real life.

These fantasies were sweet and simplistic. They consisted of one lone figure in all their glory. The way it felt to hold them in his arms. The be so close to such an unattainable goal, a sweet delicacy such as this...

His eyes snapped open. His breathing was quicker than usual. He knew this was something he didn't want to feel. Something he didn't want to imagine. Something he didn't want to...touch.

But how he did. How he wanted to grasp it in his arms and hold it tight. He felt his stomach lurch with nausea and guilt. The familiar taste of bile quickly came and his race to the bathroom began. This inner fight with himself between right and wrong. Of want and desire.

---

For all of the intelligence she possessed she couldn't for the life of her figure out what she desired in such a creature as him. He was her total opposite. He was vial and annoying. He was boisterous and harsh. He probably didn't even have the brain capacity to understand the derogatory remarks she withheld in her head, specially for him.

But yet, something fueled a fire inside of her that yearned for him. Any attention she could get from him, weather it be positive or negative, was good attention. Then he was noticing her. He knew she existed.

It was like some sort of sick obsession to her. He was some sort of disease that had taken over her. But the thing she hated to admit even more than the fact that she desired him was the fact that she loved every little thing about her sick obsession. It forced her to expand to places she would have never once thought to venture. It caused her to be spontaneous. It caused her to be reckless. It cased her to be something other than the keener, for once.

The rebel inside was screaming to get out, and with every encounter she shared with this obsession, her defenses became weaker.

Though, it seemed to her utterly impossible that these feelings would be reciprocated. He wasn't the type to feel, or rather, express that he did. And she was absolutely sure that he hated her with all sincerity.

But she longed for him, a sinful delight. The shadow in the corner of her mind that beckoned her to come forth.

--

School was the same as it always was. She was exceptionally gifted in her classes and got amazing grades and Derek...well, he slipped by with a D this time around. She never quite understood why he never took school seriously, she didn't even know if he had plans and hopes in the future that didn't revolve around "D-Rock".

His whole existence was being popular, getting any girl he wanted, and playing guitar in a band that was not too shabby.

But no, she was nothing like that, she was a straight shooter. She had high goals and was dashing for the finish line. She had a map of her future out in front of her, and the smooth trail was set in stone.

How incredibly boring, she thought to herself. How she wished she had the guts to venture past the familiar. To be something other than mundane.

The butterflies started to swell in her stomach again. I thought I had learned to control this, she cursed herself silently, at least outside of my room. They fluttered inside of her, making her feel incredibly cozy, and incredibly nervous. She hated when she was not in control, it was not something she dealt with at all. She was in control of herself, her future, her everything, but her thoughts and emotions could not be held at bay. And she hated it...

--

The warm flow of the shower washed over her. She regretted ever starting such a thing, but she had, and it was over and done with now.

She regretted ever feeling the way she did. But it was also over and done with now. And all she could do was sit there and cope. As she let the heat of the water sting her skin.