A/N: "Verstechen" roughly means "understand" (the act of understanding) in German. What is it with me and foreign titles?

Disclaimer: I don't own LWD.

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"Verstehen"

By VirgoMaiden

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A light grey sky. Clouds the same color up against that, and it gave an overall melancholy feel.

Derek leaned back, wondering when things had become the way that they had. Not when he had kissed Casey an hour ago. Not when he had punched Truman's nose for breaking her heart. Not when he watched her give their graduation speech. No, before that. Maybe when his dad had married her mom.

That was when a lot of things started, he thought, and snorted. The park bench was unnecessarily cold for early March, but it couldn't be helped – there was snow heading their way, and he figured that the cold winds were the first of many signs to come.

Signs. That led him to Casey. Back to Casey. Always back to Casey. Why had he done that? Kissed her? Grabbed her while she was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and kissed her? No one else had been around, thank God, but the look she had given him… It was enough, and he had bolted right after. How could he stand to look at her while she looked at him with such… Well, that was what he didn't know. Surprise? Contempt? Anger? Disgust?

He exhaled, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. He had royally screwed things up in a matter of seconds. A no-think decision. An all-time record.

"Derek?"

Surprised, he turned his head to the sound of the voice.

And saw her. Casey. Standing there, waiting for him.

Smiling, he stood up and walked over to her.

"Why did you do that?" she asked him, quietly. A wind picked up, blowing her hair around, but she didn't do anything to fix it; just kept staring at him determinedly.

Shit, he thought, and began to get panicked. Trying to come up with something, fast, he said in a wavering voice, "Would you believe –?"

"Why did you leave me like that?" she cut in suddenly, stopping Derek's apology cold in its tracks.

"Why…?"

"That didn't really help matters, Derek," Casey said stiffly, and crossed her arms across her chest uncomfortably. "You don't run away after kissing somebody. It gives them – a bad idea."

"I thought –''

"I don't think you were thinking much," Casey shot back, continuing her monologue. "A warning would've been nice," she muttered, looking down.

"That's not fair," he said suddenly.

"Oh, it isn't?" Casey asked. "And what would be? Me understanding everything without having to try? Come on, Der, you know I'm not like that."

"You could make it easier for me, then," Derek said. "Try to listen to me, instead of giving me an inquisition." (The thing that was probably most confusing to him out of this whole deal was the fact that they weren't yelling at each other yet. It must have been a cold day in Hell.)

"I –'' Casey looked up suddenly, her look bordering desperate, and then faltered dangerously. "I didn't know what you were thinking. How else was I supposed to find out? It was – it was equally confusing for me, Derek, as it was for you."

"Then why aren't you chewing me out yet?" Derek asked bitterly, shrugging his shoulders. "Come on, hit me – I can take it."

Casey sighed, but instead of releasing a torrent of bitter, pent-up words, she shrugged off her heavy jacket and draped it around his shoulders awkwardly.

And Derek stood there, blinking, absently holding onto the pink wool. That action (on her part) was certainly unexpected.

"What," he stuttered, "What was that? What's this?"

"That, Derek," Casey said firmly, "is a coat."

"Dammit, Case," Derek muttered, drooping his head. "You have to take away my masculinity?"

"It's just a coat."

"It's more than that!" he protested. "All these – feelings! 'Sorry,' and 'sad,' and 'jealous,' and – and…" seeing Casey's worried look, he broke off suddenly. "It's a lot of things. You're doing a lot to me. Why?"

"Because you're doing it to me," Casey said simply, looking uncomfortable. "And, come on, D, when have we ever been a conventional pair?"

"I don't know," he muttered, the coat still around his shoulders. "This is screwed up."

"You think?" Casey asked in a dry voice. "I just had to scour the neighborhood, park, and all the streets in between before finding you. I think that I'm entitled to a little freak out."

A long pause came after that, that stretched a span of an hour. Or a few minutes; it depended on who you were asking.

"Why did you run away?" Casey asked suddenly.

"Because I was – nervous," he admitted, a victim of the innocent question. (At least he hadn't slipped up and said "worried," or something else along those line.)

"Well, I was too," Casey admitted bitterly, and all of a sudden he realized how close she had gotten to him in the last few minutes.

"Then we're in agreement?" Derek asked cautiously. "We're both mad at me for bolting. There. End of story. Kay?"

"No, Derek," Casey said firmly. "I want to know why you kissed me."

Casey's words were more of a statement than a question, and he wondered how she was able to do that – take control of a situation in a matter of words. (That had never been his kind of thing. He usually just sat in the back and let someone else control the show. Afterwards, if it was successful or not, he'd then take control.)

"Because I wanted to," he said, his guard having been down thanks to the pause and unexpected question.

"Oh," she said simply. She looked a little surprised, a little bemused, and a little…happy, was it?

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "I thought that – that you looked – looked nice. And I felt like I should. So I did."

Casey laughed. "An analysis isn't required, Derek," she said, smiling at him. "But I appreciate the effort." She took ahold of his hand, and he was surprised at how warm it was compared to his own, despite the fact that she didn't have a pair of gloves on.

"Didn't I say that we were an unconventional pair?" she asked. "I thought that I was obvious there."

"I didn't get your meaning," Derek managed as she led him away, to where he supposed the house was.

"Of course you didn't," Casey said grandly, lacing her fingers through his own. "Mean it next time and maybe I'll –''

She was cut off by the sudden presence of Derek's lips against her own.

They remained like that for a few seconds; short enough for it to be chaste, but long enough so that the idea got across, that it wouldn't be interpreted as "innocent" or "friendly."

Finally he broke away and began to be the one to lead her home. Fingers still intwined, in step with her.

Words weren't needed for this.

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A/N: This started off with me saying "I want to do another song challenge." Hm. It extended beyond the 5 minutes that I was given and went on for about four more pages than expected.

But whatever.

Hope that this didn't disappoint. As always, comments/love/CC is always appreciated!

VM