SUGAR AND SPICE AND ALL THINGS NICE
She annoys him. She annoys most people, but to him, she is the personification of a concept he doesn't even want to think about. She flips her hair, she says such dumb things, she is all smiles and silliness and everything he can't possibly let her be – because she represents what happened, and there's no way she can be innocent like that.
Now she's sitting across from him, slowly sipping her coffee. She's sniffling and her eyes are bloodshot; he can tell she's trying to hide it so he won't worry, but she's not doing a very good job and he finds the whole thing quite satisfying. He sort of wants to tell her not to worry about it; that he'd much rather see her all broken like that.
"I'm so stupid," Gia mutters, and Cassidy shrugs. "I actually thought he would stay with me, you know? If only because this is, y'know, his house. But no, he just vanishes right after... I thought that he might, actually like, care about be, you know?"
Cassidy nods. "Okay. If you were really expecting Dick to have feelings for you, then you really are stupid," he says, and Gia blinks, like she's not sure whether to be offended or not. Cassidy sighs, and leans forward. His stomach is clenching and unclenching like a vice; his coffee is going cold right there because there's no way he won't vomit it up all over everything. The thought of his brother touching her makes him nauseous, but he's got secrets to keep and will just have to suck it up.
Her hands shake on the coffee cup as she brings it to her lips again, and he sees a single tear escape her eye. He pretends not to notice. God, she really does think this is the end of her world, doesn't she? Dick abandoning her the morning after; how could she not see that coming? This stupid little girl has no idea about the true definition of world-ending pain, and he can't say why.
Goodman should have done it to her too. There was almost eighteen years of opportunity now, and Gia is all small and bright like Goodman always said he liked. Cassidy thinks that would be fair; she dared to bring that bastard's genes into the future, and she should pay for it now – know what she is; the sick, monstrous thing that her father will make her become. Cassidy has come to terms with the monster inside him, but he's not like her – he just had bad luck. He wasn't born into it all like her.
But it just didn't happen – she was a girl; all sugar and spice and all things nice; not a dirty boy like that bastard wanted. Goodman kept his hands well off her and now her big, innocent eyes are staring him blank, like he doesn't really matter to all this. That it's just fine to dump all her issues on him.
"This was my first," Gia whispers, still sniffling back those tears. Cassidy just stares at her for a few seconds. She is so blatantly, unapologetically teenage girl that it makes him sick. He sees the innocence in her eyes, and he wants more than anything to break her; to see those sweet eyes turn cold and dead. He's done it before, of course – even after Lilly's death, Veronica had looked so sweet and confused. She didn't seem to understand that she was meant to be the broken one now; she just tried to stay kind and gentle. He robbed her of that; showed her what she really was. What she still is. He may as well be God to her, and he's could do it to another girl to.
Not that he would do it to Gia. The thought of touching her makes him sick, makes him wants to lobotomize himself, and besides – Dick would be pissed. Not that he cares about her, but like a keyed car, Gia is his and he wouldn't like it if anyone else touches it.
She bites her lip, waiting for a response. "I'm sorry," he says dumbly, and he's really not, but she doesn't need to know that.
She shakes her head. "Don't be. Dick is a douchebag, but that's not your fault," then she pauses. "Thanks for the coffee, Cassidy," she says, and since when does anyone Dick knows call him be his name? "You're a good guy."
"Really?" he asks, trying to sound unaffected, but something in that makes a lump form in his throat. He has to think of awful things – the memories that make him sick – to force it down again. "I don't really think so. Hey, I'm Dick Casablancas's brother, genetics are not giving me a good chance here," he jokes, with a smile that must look as fake as it is, but she doesn't notice. Maybe that's just because she's Gia and she's stupid, but he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Don't say that. You really are a good guy," it's not true, and for the first time, he feels a little sorry for her. She's so naive, and one day she'll have to find out the truth – not about him, hopefully, but knowing what he father really is would destroy a girl as sweet as Gia. If he's going to think about the whole thing logically, he can't blame her for anything.
He remembers who she is and the sympathy fades. He knew it would.
She shakes her head and gulps down the last remnants of her coffee, then shakily grasps the strap of her bag. "I – I should get home. My mom will kill me, and my dad will be so worried..."
His stomach clenches, but he forces the feeling away. The guy still exists, that doesn't surprise him. "Please don't tell anyone," she continues. "I know, it's just, like... I think this was a mistake, and if Dick's just gonna act like... Oh god, he'll be all bragging and shit won't me?" she says, jaw dropping open like this thought only just occurred to her.
He takes pity on her. "Don't worry about it. I'll make sure he keeps his mouth shut," he says, and it's highly likely not true, because he hates her and all she represents, so why wouldn't he want to see her suffer? Then again, this is Neptune and appearance is reality, and he'd really rather not let any tie between their families appear. So maybe he doesn't know what he's going to do.
"Thanks," she says, sniffling again. She stands up, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Thanks... for the coffee, and the letting me vent... I'll – I'll see you."
"You want me to drive you home?" he blurts out before he can stop himself. She smiles, and his stomach sinks – he is struck with the overwhelming urge to punch that stupid bright grin of hers off her face.
"Thanks, Beav," she says. "You're such a good guy."
"You've said that like, three times by now," he points out, trying to make sure she can't see the sickness in his eyes – being at that house had ripped him in two, but somehow the world made more sense when he was there than it had in years, even in a sick way.
"Then it should be true," she says.
"Maybe," he lies.