For Debs via GGE 2017.
Note: This fic intentionally deviates from Cassie's canon fate during s2.
She stands tall and proud, her head thrown back, arms raised to the stars above him. A smile dances across her face as she notices him watching her.
"Am I lovely, Sid?" she laughs.
He takes another swallow of alcohol, as though the liquid can burn some courage into his bones. "Yes," he says, as he always does.
With a giggle, she dances toward him, as graceful as he is clumsy. Her fragile arms wrap around him, and her smile shrinks, ever so slightly. He can only imagine what's going on inside her head, what war is being fought inside her mind.
He kisses her, hoping to blanket her demons and put them to rest.
…
She dances barefoot on broken glass, her eyes fixed on something far away, something that he cannot see. He calls her name, but she doesn't seem to hear him.
"Cassie!" he says again, more urgently now.
He wraps her in his arms, trying not to notice the bones that show beneath her paper thin skin or the way her eyes glaze over as she looks at him like he's a figment of her imagination. She presses a cold hand against his cheek. "I feel weightless," she laughs. "I feel free."
He holds her closer. "Let's get you home, yeah?"
Another giggle. Her head falls back as her body goes limp. "I am home. You are my home."
…
She's a whisper of a girl, something made of smoke.
"Am I lovely?"
And God, she's so beautiful, but she's so fucking tragic. Too much bone, not enough substance.
"Yeah, Cass. Of course, you are," he answers, and she doesn't seem to notice how strained his words are.
…
The alcohol doesn't give him courage. He empties another bottle and rubs his temples, hoping for the strength. It doesn't come. It never does.
Cassie lays on the couch, her eyes closed. She could be angel, and sometimes he has to check for a pulse to make sure she isn't close to becoming one.
Another drink. It doesn't silence the thoughts in his mind. It doesn't make him believe that maybe she's okay, that maybe she isn't slipping.
He closes his eyes. Maybe he'll find his way in the morning.
…
"Cassie!"
He isn't fast enough. She falls to the floor, her body shaking.
"Cassie, come on. Get up."
"No hospitals," she whispers. "I won't ever forgive you, Sid."
She's so broken, so beautiful, like a car crash that he can't look away from. Her eyes struggle to hold his gaze, and he can see the pleading desperation in them.
"No hospitals," he agrees, and maybe he hates himself a little for giving in.
…
The lamp shatters against the wall, raining glass.
"Cass!"
He grabs her, holding her in place with all his strength. Her body heaves with her sobs.
"I thought it was getting better, Sid," she says, turning to him and burying her face in his chest. "But everything is falling apart, isn't it?"
"It isn't," he says, amazed by how strong his reassurance sounds. "Everything will be okay."
If he's honest with himself, he doesn't really believe that, but Cassie relaxes against him. He'll try to keep lying a little longer.
…
She sets her bottle down, a devil's smile on her lips. Her movement is shaky, as though she's taking her first steps. "Am I lovely?"
"You know you are."
She crushes her lips against hers with a bruising force that doesn't fit someone so frail. "I need you to do something for me, Sid."
"Anything."
Her fingers shake as she claws at his shirt, trying to rip it from his body. "I need you to fuck the pain away."
…
She's getting smaller. He worries that soon she will disappear completely.
He's afraid to touch her, so scared that one wrong move will shatter her, turn her to dust.
…
"There was a book, you know," she says as they stand on the shore. "I forget it's name. But she just walks into the ocean, lets it take her."
He moves closer, keeping an arm firmly around her.
"It would be lovely, wouldn't it?" she whispers. "You're weightless in the water. You'd just float away."
He wants to tell her that he will be her anchor, but he's too weak to keep anyone stable. "Stay," he says instead. "Stay for me."
"I want to be weightless. I want to float away."
"Maybe we should call it a night."
…
"You're lovely, Cass."
She smiles at him, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Her smiles never do these days.
"I'm afraid for you."
It takes only four words to turn her eyes to daggers. "Afraid?" she scoffs. "Were you afraid for lovely Michelle?'
"Cassie-"
"Michelle is so perfect, isn't she? So stable, so sane. She doesn't lose her mind!" Cassie continues, her words dripping with venom.
"That's over, and you know it. Don't be stupid."
She laughs, but it's not the gentle, carefree sound that he loves. It's a storming, raging and wild. "Stupid? Fuck you, Sid! Fuck you!" she shrieks, her palm cracking against his cheek. "Fuck-"
She staggers and crashes to the floor in a pitiful heap. Her screams turn to sobs. "Falling apart. It always falls apart, doesn't it?" she whispers.
…
"I wanted you to save me," Cassie says as they approach the hospital.
"You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."
Her lips twitch as though she wants to smile. She keeps her gaze straight ahead. "I can never seem to get things right."
He sighs. It would be easier if his anger could turn to hate.
It isn't her. It's her illness, her demons. She's been falling away for so long, and he knows that she's so close to shattering.
His free hand finds hers, and he tries to pretend that it doesn't feel like holding hands with an ice sculpture. "We'll get things right," he whispers. "When you're better, I swear we'll make things right."
…
There's color in her cheeks again and hints of meat on her bones. She almost looks like the old Cassie again.
"How do you feel?"
"I ate today, and they gave me a gold star," she says.
He bites the inside of his cheek, nodding.
"Do you miss me, Sid?"
"Every day."
He misses the Cassie that loved him, the Cassie that didn't cling to pills for salvation. He misses their nights sprawled out on lawns, eyes fixed upon the sky. He misses the coffee in the middle of the night and the dancing whenever the urge would strike.
He doesn't know when or how, but he will find that girl again.