Disclaimer: I don't own TDI or any of its characters or any Robert Frost's poems.

A/N: Before we start this story, I just want to say that I am one of those people who thought Duncan needed closure. He never cried over Courtney like Geoff did with Bridgette, never really got in a big misunderstanding like Gwen and Trent, he was really just screwed over when Courtney got voted off (You cease to amaze me Harold) and he never really got to think about it. I'd like this to be the fine line I see between the first season and the second- I needed something to happen to let me exactly what was going on.

OK, so with that said, we can get this show on the road!

-HERE WE GO AGAIN-

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-Robert Frost 'Nothing Gold Can Stay'

Chapter One: Me, Courtney, and the Rest of the World

-Duncan-

Part One: Me

There are pointless things they teach you in school.

Why would I need to know all the digits of pi in real life?

"3.14, isn't that good enough?" Three is a crowd right? Why need anymore? Heck, two was a little too much for me. One was satisfactory, because then you could focus on just that, that one little thing. When you slim things down, they are so much easier to see, to focus on, so you don't have to worry about some many things getting ahead of you or lagging behind.

Algebra 2 teachers beg to differ. "No, it's not enough, Mr. Malone." Of course it isn't.

Once you're on TV once, everyone thinks that you're always going to be looking for attention. To tell you the truth, all I really wanted was for everyone to back off. Kids passed me in the halls:

Who would you do- Gwen or Courtney?

Was Geoff really that stupid?

Why were you so mean to Harold?

Do you miss her?

Someone around the classroom dares to snicker. "Not enough for Courtney, either."

"Fuck off." I hissed, not turning around. Some whispers occurred, and I stood up, grabbed my bag, and walked out. I can imagine Courtney: Don't cause a scene, Duncan! You'll get in trouble! Get back here!

The teacher raised a finger. "Mr. Malone-"

"My name is Duncan." I turned to the rest of the classroom. I saw the kid was no longer snickering- like everyone around him, he looked ready to scream. The teacher had a blank look on his face. Maybe this was common in High School. The scary kid walks out, never to be seen again.

Maybe that was all I wanted.

Away from school, everything was back to normal. I walked up to my same crap car, walking away from the same crap school, going back to an even crappier house. My Dad was pissed. Mom, well, who knew where mom was.

It seems so stupid, right? Don't parents leave when you're little, like four or seven, when you can't find them again? Not when you're fifteen and almost out of the house. But I guess my mom knew me. I wouldn't look for her, and I wasn't going to.

I guess she understood that I would spend these three years without her and I'd survive so many more to come. She knew who I was- the question was if I ever really knew her.

"So look what the shithead dragged in."

Dad sat his paper on the edge of the chair, and he did that thing with his eyebrow that I can do to, where it pounces up and slowly falls back down. It used to scare me, but now I just see it as another one of his many stupid quirks.

"Yep, I'm back." I threw my stuff on the couch, coming to the kitchen. "What a long season." I had gotten back about two months ago, but I had just gotten out of juvie about six hours before. They had dropped me off at school, said to go straight home

"Nice of you to not win anything."

"Nice of you to write."

"Well, I did a better job than your mother."

I tend to pause when thrown off, but I tried to make it unnoticeable. I hate my dad for that. I hate him for throwing my mother in my face. I hate him for never saying it out loud. I hate him for never just saying what he had always thought, that I was the reason my mother left. That I was the shithead who made her just have to escape.

I wish I could tell you that my Dad had beat me when I was little and that was why I hated him so much, but it wasn't that easy. No, I wasn't going to get an excuse as though everything was just emotional trauma and I was just a misunderstood guy hiding behind my tough exterior. To tell you the truth, this was all I had ever known, to be this way.

"Dad?"

"Yep?"

"Can I move out?"

"Can you?"

"Yeah, I can."

My Dad's eyebrows furrowed. "I think you mean to ask 'may I.'" Dad had a streak of gray going down his black hair. My grandma called it wisdom. I called it being an old fart. Courtney's face would have crumpled up with that one: Duncan, you have to respect your elders. I mean, one day, you'll be an old fart too. Will you want some kid messing with you?

"Nah." I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. "You learned a long time ago that I don't ask for permission." It was destroy and give back with me and my Dad. You would take it, destroy it, and somehow think it was OK if you just tried to go back to the way it was before.

Although my Dad didn't look surprised, I saw that tiniest flicker in his eyes. It was the look he got when he looked at his old wedding ring, when he stared off at my baby pictures muttering about how he never thought I'd be a half-ass wise crack back then. He looked like he wanted an answer to a question he didn't want to ask. "Then why ask?"

In all truth, I'm just like my Dad. I'm ignorant. I'm stubborn. I think I always know the best answer. I don't try hard at things unless I know I'm gonna get something out of it. But there was a difference between my Dad and me.

"Because I just wanted to see if maybe you'd say yes." The difference was of course obvious. You could see it as I walked out that door, as my Dad yelled behind me that I had it wrong: I ruined his life, he hadn't ruined mine. You could see it as he slammed the door behind me, as clear as day as I turned and saluted with sarcasm, my Dad yelling throughout the house, yelling on about how if it weren't for me, maybe she'd still be here.

The difference was that I knew when to stop believing that she was gonna come back, that I knew when to stop believing that my mom was just frustrated. I knew when to stop veiling the web that my Dad loved to lay over his eyes, and when to just look at things and see that the whole world was really on fire.

Part Two: Courtney

Sometimes, as those flames licked the wood, as the whole camp would seem to tense and let out its breath slowly as the loser of the challenge was announced, I thought about what it would be like if I got voted off.

Geoff, he would pat my back and say: You did good man. DJ would smile and just nod his head. Harold would grin from ear to ear and say some lame comment. And then, of course, there was Courtney.

I imagined what she would do over and over again. At first, I thought she would smack me and say good riddance. Then maybe she might blush and wave a simple goodbye. Maybe she would look at me with disgust and tell me that she had been the one to vote my dumb ass off. And then, just maybe, a small part of me thought she would kiss me.

How come I always thought I would get voted off first? I never thought about her being gone before me.

So maybe that's why I was so fucked up when it happened. This girl, the one I had taken months now to make her break a rule. The one I had wrapped my arms around and drew my fingers through her hair, touched her skin, tasted her lips, this girl I was so close to and who I had fought with and tangled with, whom I had kissed and teased. This girl.

She was about to leave.

I hadn't had too long to think it over. It wasn't done yet. It wasn't supposed to be done for a long time. I never imagined that just when it was going great, I never imagined that everything would just turn around and be so wrong.

Everyone else had sympathy written on their faces (excluding Harold, of course), but they didn't understand. I ran toward that dock with the last thing I had, trying to reach the boat that was taking away everything I had worked for.

I called her name, her real name. I looked into her dark eyes and threw not only some crappy wooden skull, but I gave her what was left of my heart. I gave her my religion, my thoughts and fears and what I had thought was all gone when my mom had left. I gave everything to her and I still haven't gotten it back.

Sometimes, as I slept in my raggedy bed at camp and listened to the other guys breathing quietly, I would wonder if she had ever wanted me as much as I needed her.

Part Three: The World

People are so shallow.

I love how people believe that one summer can really give us enough time to really know someone. I know nothing about her. Where does she live, when is her birthday- to tell you the truth (and this will make you roll your eyes), I don't even know her last name. And yet I said 'I love you'. And she believed me.

I think maybe I should be more positive, I mean, we did have something. And that was more than I had bargained for, and hey- at the time I probably would've given her the moon if that was what it took. But what's the point in positivity if it's over?

Such as grades. If you know you can't get into college, why worry about it by hoping and dreaming, and then being shut down? That's where positivity gets you. Nowhere. Such as my mom. When is she coming back? Why should I care? She's nowhere. Such as my Dad. Without my mom, where is his life going?

Nowhere. Somehow, I think I knew where I was before, but now I'm lost in my home town. I'm driving away from my father, circling around the mystery that is my mother, and heading to the United States with only a plane ticket and an address that may not even be right.

Because at least I know where I'm going. Because there is no way I'm going to follow in my parents footsteps and wind up being a nobody going nowhere.

A/N: Yeah, so it's another Duncan and Courtney thing, but this time I wanna kind of stick to TDI's original plot and see it in both point of views, because I hate getting input from just one character, because I think it's both of them that make the couple so wonderful.

This chapter had parts, and I think maybe I'll continue doing that. I think it seems fancy. And then I can make small transitions without totally flipping the story over.

Another thing: Duncan and his Dad have problems with each other in every story, but I wanted to put some stress on the whole mother and son relationship, although for now it may only be one side of it.

Thanks for reading and thanks to anyone who gives me some feedback. Love you guys- Cereal