Author's Note: They say honesty is the best policy… too bad Derek never came across such a saying. Heh. Anyway, I've read a lot of "Life with Derek" fan fiction and I'm pretty envious of all the talent. This idea came to me one day while I was reading a "Hannah Montana" Lily/Jackson story. So I hope you enjoy and I can only hope that my first attempt at an LwD story is up to par.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Tim McGraw lyrics (Faith Hill is lucky enough in owning the man himself…) and I am too broke to own an entire television series that is "Life with Derek".
Summary: This is a look at the relationship between Casey and Derek as told through the words of the Tim McGraw song of the same name.
Don't Take the Girl
Johnny's daddy was taking him fishin'
When he was eight years old
A little girl came through the front gate holdin' a fishing pole
His dad looked down and smiled, said we can't leave her behind
Son I know you don't want her to go but someday you'll change your mind
And Johnny said
"Take Jimmy Johnson, take Tommy Thompson, take my best friend Bo
Take anybody that you want as long as she don't go
Take any boy in the world
Daddy please don't take the girl
"You ready, son?" George Venturi glanced up at the weary figure sitting sluggishly on the top of the staircase.
With a worn backpack slung over his shoulder, seventeen year old Derek Venturi descended down the stairs with a half-smile on his face. "Ready as I'll ever be." He mumbled before allowing a yawn to escape his lips.
With his arms crossed and a smirk to equal Derek's own, "Well, someone didn't go to bed early enough as advised by a certain patriarchal figure, now did they?"
"Oh come on, dad!" Despite the fatigue, Derek managed to roll his eyes at his father's comment. "What sane teenager would go to bed at nine on a Saturday night?"
"One that has been getting up at four o'clock in the morning every Sunday for the past couple of weeks, that's who." George quipped.
"And tell me again why I'm continuing this crazy tradition?"
"Because son, there is no such thing as a 'Father and Son' fishing trip without the 'son' part."
Derek ran his hand through his hair, "And what's Edwin? Chopped liver?"
"Oh don't worry, Derek," George placed a comforting arm around his son, smiling, "Someday, and hopefully sooner rather than later, when you are out there in the real world and – most importantly – out of my house, your little brother will too experience the same Sunday morning ritual you and I share. But until then, I suggest you suck it up and make the most of it."
Unable to resist one more plea, "But, dad, it's four in the morning! Who in their right mind would be up this early?!"
"Good morning!" Casey MacDonald chirped as she entered from the kitchen and into the living room. She held two thermoses in her hands and proceeded to hand one of them to her stepfather.
With his trademark smirk, Derek held his hand out at his stepsister, "Case in point…"
"Derek," George warned his son before giving Casey a warm smile, "Good morning, Case."
Derek gave Casey his usual look of disregard with an added bonus of disgust over her sunny disposition. Her brunette hair was made up in braided pig-tails, instead of the usual bed head mess he's been privy to seeing every now and again, and she apparently had exchanged her pajamas for a casual long-sleeve top and jeans. It truly made him sick to see his seventeen year old stepsister look this peppy, this wide awake during the time of day that not even the freakin' Sun would be up and about.
Casey gave Derek the once-over, particularly eyeing his ruffled dark auburn hair on down to his faded red shirt and even fader denim jeans, with her blue eyes before snickering and handing him the other thermos. "Wow, Derek. Roll out of bed much?" She reached over and briefly tousled up his hair, not even giving Derek the benefit of swatting her arm away.
Before his son had the chance to retaliate, George stepped between the two teenagers. Goodness knows that one of the benefits towards getting Derek away from the house for the past few Sundays was giving everyone in the blended family the chance for a peaceful morning sans the daily Casey versus Derek bout. George held up his thermos, "Hey Casey, thanks for making us coffee. You, uh, didn't have to get up early for this."
With a satisfied smile, "It's no problem, George. I just thought that you guys deserve an extra pick-me-up to start off your day."
Derek took a step back, eyeing Casey suspiciously. Something was… off… Derek and his father had been spending the past five maybe six Sundays getting up at the crack of dawn. Not once have they been given the honor of Casey's perky – albeit questionable – presence. And now here she was; four o'clock in the morning, all dressed up, and offering to share the caffeine that she herself looked like she had just partook in.
Something smelled fishy… pardon the pun.
"What?" Casey shifted uncomfortably under her stepbrother's silent scrutiny.
"'Fess up, Grub." He spat, using the year old reference of Casey's "grade grubbing" days. "What gives?"
She crossed her arms defensively, a move that he knew all too well. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, MacDonald. What gives? It's four in the morning and you're up. As I recall, the earliest you've ever been awake on a weekend has been around eight. Though God only knows anytime before ten on a weekend is just unheard off!"
"I couldn't sleep." Casey snipped, despite still shifting uneasily at his interrogation.
Derek's eyes sparkled at noting Casey's body language, especially since that's one of her biggest tells. "You would so suck at poker, Case." He snickered, "I hope your coffee isn't as bad as your fibbing."
"You know, Casey," George regarded his stepdaughter, though not with the same amount of distrust as his son. "As much as I dislike getting on the same bandwagon of suspicion with Derek here…"
"Hey!" Derek stared.
"No offense, son," George apologized before continuing, "But you do have a point, Derek. I mean," He placed a fatherly hand on Casey's shoulder, "Case, I do appreciate the thoughtfulness of you making us coffee, but why exactly are you doing this?"
There was a moment's pause as Casey contemplated how to go about explaining her true motives. Thoughtfully chewing on her lower lip, the young woman swayed her body back and forth before finally giving in to the two Venturi men's skepticism.
"Okay," she sighed, "okay, I'll tell you the truth. But," Casey pointed at her stepbrother threateningly, "You have to swear not to laugh. Or make me feel foolish for even asking."
Derek crossed his heart, "Sure…"
"I mean it, Derek."
"I swear!" He held up his hands defensively.
Sensing her unease, "Don't worry, Case," George encouraged her as he placed a strong grasp on Derek's shoulder, "He promises."
Derek flinched as his father gave his shoulder a tight warning squeeze. "Yeah, yeah…"
It started with a whisper, which earned two confused looks. She said it once more, only this time the whisper was barely a mumbling of words.
"What?" They both replied simultaneously.
With her eyes downcast, Casey began fiddling with her hands until she was able to look up and say in one fluid breath, "Iwanttogofishing."
Getting agitated, which added to Derek's already formed state of annoyance at having to get up so early and seeing his least favorite person at the same time, he snapped, "Oh just get the hell on with it, MacDonald!"
One would have to give Derek credit for quite possibly being the only person on this planet to spark a fuse within Casey. Eyes blazing, she declared, "I said that I wanted to go fishing! Okay?! I said it! I wanted to follow you two on your little fishing trip. Happy?"
"What?!" Derek gaped in shock before narrowing his eyes, "No! No, no, N-O NO!"
"What?! Why not?!"
"Because,"
"Because…"
"Because… because… because girls don't fish!"
Casey balled her fists and placed them on her hips, "Excuse me?!"
"You heard me! Girls can't fish!"
"You are unbelievable, Venturi! That is such a sexist thing to say!"
"Not unless it's the truth." He snipped. Turning to his father for support, "Am I right, dad? Fishing's a manly sport."
George really didn't want to be caught up in the middle between the two teenagers. Not to mention that he was still a bit thrown off by Casey's admission.
"Besides," Derek continued, "This is supposed to be a 'father and son' thing. Not a 'father and stepdaughter' thing. So… unless you grow a penis anytime soon—"
"Derek!" Both George and Casey exclaimed in disbelief, though Casey's voice was laced with an added hint of disgust.
"Oh grow up," He smirked at her.
"You should take your own advice." Casey sneered. "And besides, I would think I'd be doing you a favor. Considering that you were complaining earlier about going out fishing at four in the morning. Tell you what," She walked over and started jabbing him in the chest, "Why don't you go back upstairs, back to that disgusting sty you call a bedroom, and I'll go out and go fishing in your place? Bet George here would rather enjoy a morning of appreciative silence instead of it being filled with your constant unappreciative whining."
George gave a slight thoughtful nod at Casey's comment, but quickly shook his head as he noted his son's glare.
Derek's own eyes flashed, "Like I'm going to let you take my place on that boat!" He grabbed his father's coat and started to tug him towards the door, "C'mon, dad. We're gonna be late. Y'know, the early bird gets the fish and all that shit…"
"That's worm, you moron." She rolled her eyes.
George pulled away from Derek, "Now hold up one second, son. I… I think Casey has a point."
Derek paled while Casey beamed.
"She does?"
"I do?"
"Yes." George smiled down at her before giving his son a sober look. "Admit it, Derek. You were trying to get yourself out of our little expedition."
"Yeah, I was. But that doesn't mean I want Casey to take my place instead."
"Derek, forget Casey for a moment,"
"Wish I could…" He mumbled begrudgingly.
"Hey!"
"Derek, do you or do you not want to go out with me today. Leave Casey out of this and just answer me that."
Much to his own surprise, Derek recalled his father's words early on and silently agreed with them. One day he will be out on his own, living in the real world without the parental units, which meant that he wouldn't be seeing his father everyday. Something that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't be taking his dad's daily presence for granted. He looked into his father's eyes, "I do, dad. I want to go with fishing with you."
"Okay," George grinned, inwardly relieved to still feel wanted by his eldest son. He looked over at Casey and took note of the sullen look of defeat. "Hey, Case? Can I ask you something?"
She tried to hide the pout on her face, "Sure…"
"Why the sudden interest in fishing?"
"Because…" she started with a sigh, "Because every once in a while, my dad likes to take these fishing trips, and… and I've never gone fishing before and… I thought that maybe if I learned from you, George…"
Derek inwardly cringed. "Oh crap…" he murmured. This was about Casey's somewhat estranged father. A guy that, if not for his few attempts at bonding with his two daughters, Casey and her little sister Lizzie, was a relative stranger to the MacDonald family. Of all the males in Casey's life, Derek – despite his façade not to give a damn about her – took note that her father, Dennis MacDonald, was her one true weakness. No matter how far apart they are, she was, after all, daddy's little girl.
And if this was all ultimately connected towards helping Casey get closer to her father… No matter what protests would come out of his mouth, no matter how many names of friends he could spout off as substitutes for companions as opposed to his stepsister… all would be in vain.
No way in hell would Derek give up a day with his father, which means…?
"Casey, sweetheart…" Hope started to shine on Casey's face as George began. "I have no problem with you joining us."
She beamed, "Really?"
He nodded his head and started to laugh as she ran up to hug him. The joy was short-lived, however, as it began to dawn on Casey that just because George said it was okay, Derek could make the trip a nightmare because he would view her as a mere third-wheel. Which, technically, she was…
Both looked over at Derek, waiting for his reaction. He stood immobile, unable to comprehend the fact that the girl he found most annoying, most aggravating, most infuriating in this world… at this very moment, he couldn't say "No" to even if he tried.
With a reluctant sigh, "You heard the man, Case. You can come with us."
Casey resisted the urge to jump Derek with a hug. Instead she rewarded him with an enthusiastic "Thank You" squeal.
As she ran upstairs to gather her things, George stood over by his son and placed a proud arm around his shoulder.
"Y'know, son… if I didn't know any better, I'm starting to think that you're having a change of heart about that sister of yours."
A thoughtful smile tugged briefly on Derek's lips before it turned into one of his infamous smirks. He glanced over at his father, and with a shrug, "Stepsister, dad. And yeah, right... when hell freezes over."
Casey bounded downstairs, a backpack slung over her shoulder, and breezed past Derek to exit the house. Not without, of course, calling out "Shot-gun!"
"Hey!" He cried in protest before rushing out the door to leave George shaking his head in amusement.
Same old boy
Same sweet girl
Ten years down the road
He held her tight and kissed her lips
In front of the picture show
Stranger came and pulled a gun
Grabbed her by the arm said "If you do what I tell you to, there won't be any harm"
And Johnny said "Take my money, take my wallet, take my credit cards
Here's the watch that my grandpa gave me
Here's the key to my car
Mister give it a whirl
But please don't take the girl
Twenty-five year old Casey MacDonald flung her arms around her stepbrother, Derek Venturi.
"Hey, hey, HEY!" Derek protested. He tried to shake her off of him, which was a first in his books, for he has never in his lifetime turned down any intimate body contact with a beautiful female. Then again, he wrinkled his nose in disgust, this was Casey. The bane of his formidable teen years, the root of all his young adult frustrations, the one girl that had the audacity to take all of his charms and attempt to shove it down his throat; his stepsister, Casey MacDonald. He didn't care if she had the type of looks that would put Cameron Diaz to shame… this was Casey.
And she was openly hugging him in public!
"Get off of me!" He cried as he managed to shove her away.
Casey straightened out her blouse and tossed him a smirk. If she could be known for only one thing in this lifetime, she had hoped it would be to make her stepbrother's life a living nightmare. Or at least the type of nightmare that entailed having to do an oral book report naked in front of the entire student body. Casey lived to embarrass the hell out of Derek.
"I told you, Der," she grinned cheekily, "One day we would have our family feel good moment."
Derek shuddered, "But in front of the movie theaters? Gross!"
"What're you, twelve? Grow up, dear brother." Casey rolled her eyes at him.
He rubbed the back of his head, muttering to himself, "Last time I do her any favors…"
"So what time did they say they were meeting us?" She asked, looking down and going through her purse for her cell phone.
Derek checked his Platinum Rolex, "Uh, seven?" He flicked his wrist, causing the lights from the theater marquee to bounce off his watch and momentarily blind Casey's eyes.
"Hey!"
"Sorry…" He said, though secretly glad that at least he had cause some distress, though not equal to the one she had caused him earlier.
Casey glared at Derek and would have given some flippant remark, however she remained silent if only because he had actually done something nice for her. A once-in-a-blue-moon something nice for her; and his name was Scot Parker.
It had been nearly six months since Casey had broken up with Doug Anderson, her college sweetheart of six years, and she still hadn't gotten over him. Granted that she should have seen it coming, especially since upon first meeting Doug, Marti, her oh so observant stepsister, had given him the evil eye throughout the entire visit, but it was still a shock to lose him.
However, it was a bigger surprise on Doug's end as he was nearly carted off in a body bag after – surprise! – Derek, of all people, was through with him. After all, Doug was ultimately to blame for their break-up by having a clandestine affair with not one, but two of Casey's former suite-mates.
Derek would have thought that Casey would be over the moon over having discovered that her scum of a boyfriend was paying a visit to the ICU ward, but damn if he didn't understand the female psyche. Instead of skipping down to the nearest bar to pick up on the next pathetic male to date her, his once lively firecracker of a stepsister became reduced to a sad mess of tears and self-pity! And despite every so often enjoying the chance to poke fun at her state of disarray; Derek couldn't stomach her sporadic outburst of tears. Six months had passed since he had nearly sent ol' Douglas to the morgue and Casey still hadn't gotten over him! This was unfathomable to Derek!
So Derek gritted his teeth and had set out to do the unthinkable; make Casey happy. Thinking that this would be no easy task (for fuck's sake, this was Casey, for as long as he's known her the girl was more high maintenance than the Hilton Sisters), how was he to know that the answer to his problem would fall into his lap so easily? Or at least in the form of a lawyer that worked in the same firm as his current girl Friday, Wendy Smith.
A week ago, Lizzie, who was doing a research project for class, had asked Casey to drop her off at the Public Relations firm where Derek was currently employed. Derek, at the moment, was just returning from a luncheon with Wendy and one of her co-workers; a new fellow to her law firm by the name of Scot Parker. Casey, who had every intention of just dropping Lizzie with Derek and then heading back to her apartment for a date with Ben and Jerry®, was nearly bowled over by the sight of Wendy's associate, who stood at around the same build and six foot two height as Derek, black hair and piercing blue eyes, with a body that could put Ryan Gosling, back in his "The Notebook" days, to shame. So stunned was she at first sight that Derek could have sworn that Klutzilla had returned from the mists of the past.
After much goading from both Lizzie and Wendy, one of a few girls in his life that actually bonded with both Marti and Casey, Derek had agreed to play Cupid between the two.
If he had known that the price for such an action was a publicly open display of affection from Casey, he would have called the whole damn thing off! The possible good thing about all this, however he had to admit, was that Casey seemed to be back to her old pain-in-the-ass self.
Speaking of which…
"Der-ek! Please…" She whined and attempted to give him the old sad puppy eyes.
"No way," he snipped, "Last time I gave you the keys to my car, it took me three hours to reprogram my entire radio back to the stations I had them at!"
"But I left my cell in your car!"
"Tough."
"Ugh!" Casey grinded her teeth, "You are infuriating!"
"Hey," he smirked, "I actually know what that means. Who knew that college could pay off?"
"Why did I agree to carpool with you anyway?"
"One," Derek began to tick off, "Because you made the mistake of agreeing to let your little sister borrow your car for the weekend. Two, because we agreed to meet in separate cars due to the client dinner party both Wendy and Scot needed to tend to. And three… as much as I would have enjoyed seeing you walk the mean city streets alone, I can't because Nora and my dad would kill me if I didn't do the brotherly thing and keep an eye on you."
"Can you at least do the brotherly thing and retrieve my cell from your car?"
"Uh… no."
"Derek!"
Derek sighed; exasperated in knowing that she was going to continue being a nuisance. "Okay! Let's go get that stupid cell phone…"
Casey bit back a satisfied grin as she followed him back towards the parking garage behind the movie theater.
The nearly empty parking garage echoed the sounds of Casey's heels and the idle chit-chat between the two adults as they made their way towards Derek's black Porsche. Small talk, though few and far between in addition to the frequent barbs and spats, was not lost on the stepsiblings.
Once Derek was within five feet of his vehicle, which shared the entire lot space with two other cars (night life on a Sunday, go figure), he disabled its alarms with a simple click of a button. Though Casey managed to hold her smile back at the theater, she could not, however, pass the chance to roll her eyes and murmur, "Show off."
The Porsche was Derek's pride and joy. A gift for himself; thanks in part to being an up and coming talent at his P.R. firm. A relatively gifted "spin doctor." Gee, Casey mused, who knew that Derek's uncanny ability to bullshit would pay off one day?
He waved his hand towards the direction of his car and quirked his brow, "Well?"
"Wow, don't I feel special?" Sarcasm was not wasted on her words, "Here I thought that chivalry was dead."
As Casey walked over to the passenger side and begin to retrieve her phone, Derek smirked, "Hey, I walked you here, didn't I?"
She still had her head inside the car as she called out, "If only because you were afraid that I'd drive your baby off a cliff."
"Not until I get the insurance to cover accidents caused by freakishly psychotic stepsisters you won't."
"Ha ha…" Casey popped her head out and smiled as she held her lost cell phone up triumphantly, "Found it!"
"Great! Now get your ass out of my car so that we could meet the others up front." He quickly checked his watch, "We got five more minutes until they get here."
Noting his impatience, Casey shooed Derek. "Why don't you go on ahead and I'll lock up? I want to do a quick make-up check."
He gaped as he watched her casually sit back down in his car and begin checking herself out in the mirror. He shook his head in disbelief before turning on his heel and stomping off. However, as an afterthought, he muttered "Women!" loud enough for Casey to hear.
For a minute or so, all Derek heard within the parking garage was the sounds of his feet, his own mumbling of annoyance, and then the distant sound of his car finally being locked and closed from the inside. Just when he had made it towards the other side of the building and was about to turn the corner that lead out towards the main street, Derek heard a sound that made his heart stop with fear; Casey screaming.
"Derek!!!"
He stopped cold for a millisecond, as if something inside of Derek had just snapped and awoken him to this reality before them, before turning around and allowing his eyes to take in the scene before him.
Later on, upon relaying what had gone on to the questioning police officers, Derek would look back at what had happened and only one thing stood out amongst it all; Casey.
He wouldn't be able to describe the attacker's face, but Derek could recount the way Casey's lips trembled as she forced herself not to cry. He couldn't tell you what color eyes the guy had, but he could explain the way Casey's blue eyes widened with both emerging tears and terror. And though Derek was unable to provide the guy's physical details, everything from height and weight, he could cite the way Casey's body was tense with fear as she was held against her will, with the attacker's arms holding her tight with one arm and the other pressing a knife to her delicate neck.
Derek ran back to Casey, if only to be halted nearly half-way there by the attacker's promise to slit "your girlfriend's throat if you come any closer."
Not bothering to correct him, Derek held his hand up. "Okay, okay… what do you want? Huh?" He sensed the desperation in this guy's voice and, if Casey's life wasn't within this idiot's hands, he kept his restraints from attacking him himself to a minimum.
"Derek…" Casey began, but squeaked when the assailant pressed the knife closer to her skin.
"Shut up." He hissed before turning his attention back towards "the boyfriend."
"Hey, hey," Derek snapped his fingers at the man. "Look at me. What do you want, huh? What's it gonna take for you to let her go, huh?"
Without even thinking about it, with no hesitation on his part, Derek began emptying his pockets at this stranger with Casey's life in his hands.
Looking back, Casey didn't know whether to call Derek's actions crazy, stupid, or… downright sweet and heroic.
"Here!" He tossed his wallet at their feet. "You want money, huh? Take my wallet and everything in it; both cash and cards." He did the same thing with his keys, "Take my car… please, take it!"
The man stood there, briefly baffled at how easy this mugging was turning out to be. This guy must either be rich to not give a shit about his belongings… or crazy about his girlfriend that he had taken hostage. He even voiced that opinion, to which the young man stared the mugger down with dangerous eyes.
A second that seemed like an eternity to both Casey and Derek had passed before Derek tried one final plea. To Casey's astonishment, she watched as he began to remove the watch from his wrist.
"Here," Derek threw the watch down by the mugger's feet. "Take that too. It's a Platinum Rolex. Just please…" His voice croaked as he begged, "Please… let her go."
Another second passed, this time it was shorter than the last as the thief finally had enough common sense to shove Casey towards Derek, swoop down to pick up the wallet and watch, and dash back into the dark shadows of the parking garage from where he originally emerged.
Not even waiting for the mugger to completely disappear, Derek ran over to Casey's side and caught her before she fell. No hesitation on her part as she finally released the flood gates and sobbed into Derek's arms.
Granted they were in the middle of the parking lot, Derek didn't move an inch except to soothe Casey's fears. It wasn't until headlights flashed and two figures emerged from the car that pulled up right next to them did the two young adults realized there was a world outside of their bubble.
"Derek? Casey? Oh my God, what happened?!" Wendy rushed over, followed closely by Scot.
While Casey cried quietly in his arms, Derek briefly explained the situation. With a nod of his head, Scot reached into his cell to call the police. Wendy momentarily disappeared into her car for some tissues.
Once Scot confirmed the call, and Wendy returned with tissues for Casey, Derek politely asked them if he could be alone with his sister. They nodded with understanding and both headed out to await the patrol cars.
"You okay, Case?"
Casey sniffled and blew loudly into the tissue. Wanting to make her smile, Derek wrinkled his nose with faux disgust and said, "Gross…"
Despite the circumstances, Casey formed a small smile and apologized.
"No need for apologies."
She sniffled once more and laid her head against Derek's chest. They remained in this position, a knowing silence falling over them, until Casey shot her head up in realization.
"But your watch!"
Derek shrugged, "It's just a watch, Casey."
She shook her head, "No… no it wasn't." Her eyes searched his, "Your dad gave that to you…"
"So he'll get me another one. It's no big deal."
"It was a graduation gift, Derek."
Derek nodded, "I know…"
"You said that it was the first time you knew that George was immensely proud of you. That watch meant the world to you, Derek. I mean," she closed her eyes and sighed, "I know that watch was more priceless to you than your own car!"
He was quiet for a second, contemplating her words and his own response to them. Finally, he said, "It's just a watch, Casey."
As the sirens heard from a distance were closing in, Derek rocked Casey back and forth, hushing her to rest. When the police and the ambulance arrived, Casey was slowly nodding off to sleep.
As the paramedics gingerly placed Casey onto the stretcher, Derek stood to the side and, before turning his attention towards the officers, warned the medics, "Be careful with her… she's priceless…"
Same old boy
Same sweet girl
Five years down the road
There's going to be a little one and she says it's time to go
Doctor says the baby's fine but you'll have to leave
'Cause his momma's fading fast and Johnny hit his knees and there he prayed
Take the very breath you gave me
Take the heart from my chest
I'll gladly take her place if you'll let me
Make this my last request
Take me out of this world
God, please don't take the girl
Derek Venturi was an impatient man. It took twenty-nine years of his life, not to mention this particular moment in time, for him to realize that "patience" was not a word found within his vocabulary.
However, words like "annoyed," "frustrated," "irritated," and… yes, even "terrified beyond all reason" he understood them all. Okay, granted that was more phrase than singular noun, but still… Patience? Who the fuck had time for that when the one person you reluctantly admit that you can't see the rest of your days without their constant – albeit at times trying – presence is going through the most painful experience of their life?
He knew he was wearing his shoes out by pacing back and forth in front of the door that led into the hospital's delivery room. He also knew that he looked like a wreck as he resisted the urge to tear his hair out as he anxiously awaited the news of Casey's delivery.
Casey MacDonald-Parker's water broke nearly three hours ago.
Was it three hours ago? Derek couldn't really tell. He paused, than nodded. Yes, it had to be three, maybe even four. Oh who was he kidding? What was time when Casey was in the next room giving birth to her first child?
He would have gone in there with her, was almost tempted to, but thank God for Nora, Casey's mother.
Derek would look back at this event, would retell it to those that would listen, and remember that it was supposed to be a stress-free Sunday afternoon. He would then chuckle with bemusement at how "funny" it was that at least two life changing events (now three) had also occurred on a Sunday. God certainly had a fucked up sense of humor.
"That's probably where you got it from, Der."
Those were Casey's words, not his. He never really believed in God; or any higher power actually. Hell, religion in general was as foreign a concept as women during "that time" and he was just fine playing ignorant on both accounts.
His stepmother and his Marti, whom had blossomed into a beautiful, and quite the Venturi smartass, twenty year old, had met up with Lizzie, whom had also grown up to look just like her big sister with just a hint of Nora as far as hairstyles go, to take Casey out for some shopping and lunch. The event was pretty much a "girl thing."
Casey herself was eight months into her pregnancy and damn if Derek hadn't noted on that particular afternoon, when all four women stopped by his apartment, how she looked about ready to burst. And just because she was "extra sensitive" due to her condition, it did not hinder Derek's need to tease and provoke a rise out of her.
Thankfully Casey herself didn't allow her condition to also stop her from firing back at all of Derek's taunting.
Derek remembered the exact conversation before all their lives changed.
"Casey, Casey, Casey… haven't I warned you time after time about shoplifting those watermelons? Hasn't your husband advised you enough on the legal ramifications on stealing fruit?"
"Bite me, Venturi."
"Yeah, you know, Case, I've been meaning to talk to you about your eating habits…"
"Keep it up, Derek. One day, when my child feels this unexplainable need to kick you, and then proceeds to ask mommy "why?" I'll just explain to him or her that it's all because Uncle Derek couldn't shut his big fat mouth and leave mommy alone when she was pregnant with you."
"I will not let you raise that godchild of mines to be a mama's boy or girl."
"Yeah, I'm still wondering what possessed Scot to go temporarily insane and ask you of all people to be the godfather of my child."
"Isn't it obvious? Because you're its mother!"
"You can't always blame genetics. I mean, how else it could be explained that good people like George, Edwin, and Marti are related to someone like you."
"Be careful with your words, Case… you're not going to find another uncle for that child of yours that will spoil it as much as I would."
"I know. Especially since it would be a good lesson on why it's bad to accept deals, even gifts, from the spawn of Satan."
"Hey, that would make your child related to the spawn."
"Only through marriage, Der—"
That's when Casey had gasped and began to clutch her stomach. God had a twisted enough sense of humor to cause Casey's water to break right in the middle of one of the stepsiblings' infamous verbal bouts.
Derek had insisted on driving Casey to the hospital, taking along both Nora and Marti. Lizzie had taken her mother's car to pick up Scot at the airport. Of all the weekends, Scot just had to pick this one to leave to New York City for an important case. He had already left JFK and was set to arrive back home mid-afternoon. Not the deity to let up; seems like God had also timed Casey's delivery just right.
Now here he was; stuck waiting for news on the expectant mother and child. Marti had gone outside to call Edwin, who had gone over to spend the day fishing with their father (who knew that Edwin would enjoy the sport so much after high school?), and Lizzie, who had just arrived at the terminal and was awaiting Scot's return.
Derek never considered himself a spiritual man. Yet, for the first time in his life did he feel the urge to… what? Talk to God? He knew that it was referred to as "praying," but he scoffed at the Sunday school notion. The closest act Derek had gotten to know God was trying to seduce a very attractive Jehovah's Witness. But now… what could Derek do?
He was tortured by the image of Casey's face as she gripped her mother's hand in agony. He couldn't get the sound of her voice as she cried out for her mom, and (causing an inwardly cringe of… sadness? Regret? He couldn't tell) crying in need of her husband, needing Scot, out of his head.
"Mrs. Venturi, please…"
"No! She's my daughter! I need to be in there with her!"
"Mrs. Venturi, this is not a request. It's an order."
Derek turned towards the voices that interrupted the silent corridor he was pacing within. Without thinking twice, he closed the distance between himself and where Nora and the doctor stood, apparently having an argument.
The look of defiance was not lost on Derek, as were the look of a protective mother wanting to be there for her child. There was something about the way Nora stood at this exact moment that almost caused him to smile, for he knew that someday that would be Casey herself; a fiercely loving mother that would do anything short of killing for her child.
"But Doctor—" It didn't quite sound like a plea, but it was close enough to one.
Derek wanted to ask what the commotion was all about, more so needing to put distance between the two for fear that Nora was thisclose to attacking the doctor, when suddenly an elderly nurse had poked her head out from behind the doors of the delivery room.
With a hint of professionalism in her voice, yet still laced with the stress of dealing with a mortal situation, the nurse said, "Doctor Adams, we need you. Her BP's dropping…"
Doctor Adams said to Nora, though his eyes directly landed on Derek, "Please. I need you to stay out here. Now."
As the medical professionals disappeared behind swinging doors, Derek looked over at Nora, whose own hands were beginning to shake as the reality of the situation began to sink in. He knew that something had happened in there, something that wasn't supposed to happen.
Nora, stunned for words, started to walk away from Derek. She was gingerly removing the scrubs the nurses had handed to her earlier, back when she was actually allowed in the room with her daughter, when Derek came up from behind and slowly turned her towards him. He needed answers. Something inside of him was screaming for them.
"Nora? Nora… what… what happened?"
She fought back the tears and her lips trembled, Derek noted that it was much in the same fashion as her daughter. Only when Derek gripped her hands into his did she look up at him and exhaled her fear, her worries; "It was all going fine. It wasn't an easy delivery, but Casey was doing just fine. And the baby…Oh God, Derek, the baby cried! But it was a healthy cry… It's a boy, Derek. My little girl gave birth to a healthy baby boy! Can you believe that? Our Casey's a mother!"
He laughed as an image of a harried Casey chasing a mischievously little boy around the house flashed through his eyes. "I know…"
The same light in Nora's eyes, for she too had the same image in her head, quickly dimmed as she recalled the last few minutes. "That's when Casey started to loosen her grip on my hands. At first I thought she was letting go so that she could hold out her hands to see her son, so I had released my hold… but her hands… her beautiful hands just fell away." She had a lump in her throat as she continued, "And she suddenly, she began to close her eyes. Her head just lolled to the side… and that's when the machines started going off. I knew something was wrong, but… it's like, it's like my body just froze there. Something was wrong and I… I didn't know what to do."
She looked up frantically at Derek, her voice hindering on desperation. Derek had gotten the worst chill through his spine as he allowed her to continue. "I'm her mother, Derek! I should have done something. Mothers are supposed to know what to do. They're supposed to know how to help their children. They're supposed to know how to make the pain go away."
Letting instincts take hold, Derek grabbed hold of Nora and just held her fiercely. She stopped talking and instead started to sob. Derek was wise enough to figure that some sort of "complication" had occurred. He had dated enough doctors, whom had unfortunately often taken their war stories home with them, to know that something had gone terribly wrong in the delivery. Thank God he had Nora's state of mind to look out for, because if she wasn't there, goodness knows how he would be handling all this.
"Nora? Nora!"
"Oh George! My baby girl…" Nora cried as she tore herself away from Derek and flung her arms around her husband.
George and Edwin Venturi had jogged into the corridors, both sharing the same look of worry. Edwin, looking every bit as handsome as his older brother, gazed over at Derek, who started to look positively sick in the stomach.
Edwin reached his brother's side, offering a consoling hand, but was quickly, and quite angrily, rebuffed. "Derek…" Edwin began, but stopped shy when Derek just held out his hand.
"Don't." He snapped. "I… just don't, Ed. Just… leave me alone, okay?" His voice cracked as he shut his eyes to ward off the tears that threatened to emerge.
Derek knew he was walking blindly down the corridor, away from his family when they needed each other most, but his instincts begged for him to seek solitude.
Without Nora needing him anymore for support, it forced Derek to deal with the reality of the situation head on. Nora's helplessness struck him hard. Add in the nagging images of Casey's own helplessness, and mingled with his own inability to do anything… it was too much for Derek to bear.
Say what you will about his roller-coaster ride relationship with Casey MacDonald; but Derek did honestly love her. Though he still had a difficult time defining what type of love he felt for her, he knew that it was love none the less. Sure she drove him crazy since day one; but there had been no other girl since her that could light a spark in him like she can. Sure she couldn't admit to being the weaker sex against him, but were it not for his need to compete with Casey; he wouldn't have gotten through college like he had. And true, she was impossible to live with… but every single day after high school, when they weren't under the same roof anymore, Derek could admit that he missed their daily verbal spats.
Ultimately, without any contest, Derek needed Casey in this life. And now it looked like he was losing her.
He had already lost her to Scot, but he was okay with that. Scot, for some weird reason, understood the two stepsiblings need to infuriate the others lives on a regular basis. Derek had to hand it to the man; most others would have seethed at having to share Casey with him, but Scot understood. When Derek had asked him why he puts up with it when most others would have walked away, Scot simply replied, "I don't care what you do with her, short of killing her, but as long as she comes back to my bed every night, it's all good."
That was good enough for Derek to give his approval on Scot's proposal to their Casey.
And now it looked like they both might lose her.
Derek started to look around him, his anger rising and needing to break something… anything… where's a damn chair to throw across the room when he needed it?!
As he advanced over towards the wall, his fists balled up and ready to strike, Derek was halted in his steps by a glimmer of a distant memory…
"It's called 'praying,' Derek. You know, that thing you should do moments before George discovers you nearly wrecked his car? When you're hoping for a miracle in the guise of him not noticing that dent on his fender?"
He blinked. His fists still clenched and needing to strike.
Casey patted Derek's shoulder, mock-consoling him, "Why don't I start praying for you instead?"
Despite his attempt to block out her words, oh God he was still angry, he found himself none the less relaxing his fists.
"Or…" Casey smirked her infamous MacDonald smirk, "Maybe you should try it out yourself."
Why break down a wall when one could break down in prayer instead? He gave up. He had nothing left to lose… except maybe her…
He closed his eyes. "God, if you're really there, I hope you're listening…"
His breath was ragged. "I know I haven't been kind to her… I haven't treated Casey as well as I should have… But she can't die. Not now, not like this… Please, God,"
He collapsed to his knees. "Take me instead… Casey is a saint compared to me, so if there's anyone that deserves to die, let it be me… Just please, not her…"
He folded his hands together. "And if you won't take me, please don't take her… If not for me, then do it for everyone that loves her so much… Her family… Her husband… Her son… This little boy is going to need his mother… He's going to need her so much…"
His body started to tremble as he began to rock his body back and forth. "And… Oh God, please… I need her too…"
Derek Venturi did all this to ask one simple request; "Please God, don't take my girl."
"Mrs. Venturi?"
"Doctor Adams?"
"Is Casey's husband here?"
"No, he's not. Not yet… but, may I please see my daughter now?"
"Actually… May I talk to you in private?"
Eight year old Ricky Parker had a Sunday morning ritual. He'd get up at the crack of dawn, which varied between four or five o'clock in the morning, wash up with enough cold water to really keep him awake, change into his "fishing attire" (which consisted of a beige shirt, a warm jacket, long pants and his favorite army boots that his grandpa George had given him this past Christmas) and then wait for his father to announce the arrival of his uncle Derek.
For the past year and a half, his uncle Derek had taken him fishing. Why? Ricky didn't really know why, except that he knew that his uncle had practically looked forward to him being old enough for such an activity since… well, since birth according to his father.
Not that he minded. He actually enjoyed going out fishing with his uncle Derek. Ricky knew his father wasn't much of an outdoors man, that he had apparently had gotten his uncanny zeal for fishing from his mother. This was a fact made known by his uncle, who was intent on letting his nephew remember that.
"Remember that, Rickster, I may have taught you to cast the reel, but you inherited your mother's fishing genes."
As he recalled his uncle's words, Ricky sat on his bed, waiting for his father to knock on his door, and found himself completing his pre-fishing ritual by staring at the picture frame right next to his night stand.
In addition to his army boots, grandpa George had given him one more gift; a picture frame of his mother and his uncle Derek on their first fishing expedition together. Grandpa George had explained that both teenagers, yes, his mom and uncle Derek were young too, had become wrapped up with competing against each other on who would catch the biggest fish that the end result had them catching noting but a boot (caught by his mother) and a torn fishing net (caught by his uncle). Wanting them encouraged as opposed to discourage, his grandfather had insisted that they proudly display their prizes; which they surprisingly agreed to.
Uncle Derek stood taller than his mom and had placed his arm around her shoulder as they hammed it up for the camera. Their faces were bright with youthful joy and laughter. Ricky especially enjoyed the look on his mother's face. Not only did she have one of the biggest smiles on her face, but her blue eyes looked like they were laughing. There was something… well, something magical about the way she looked in that picture.
Thoughtfully, he reached over to hold the picture when there was a knock on his door.
"Ricky? You ready?"
The young man woke from his reverie, "Huh?"
His father cracked the door open and peeked in, "Hey son," With a smile, "Your uncle's waiting for you downstairs. You ready?"
Ricky, with a smile that hauntingly mirrored his mother's, jumped from his bed, placed the picture back on the night stand, grabbed his backpack and headed out the door. "Yeah, dad, I'm ready."
Johnny's daddy was taking him fishin'
When he was eight years old…
fini
Thank you for reading my fan fiction. Hope you enjoyed it! Comments are greatly welcomed. And maybe… well, hopefully someday I can write another "Life with Derek" fan fic.