A/N: I know it's short, but it's an update! I am so extremely grateful to all of my wonderful reviewers who have given me hope for this story. Still no idea where it's going, but as long as y'all are down for the ride, I'm happy to go as far as I can. And I promise that next chapter will be longer.
Also, I know that Derek is extremely OOC, and he probably will be for a bit. But worry not, dear readers, as he will dissolve back into his bastardly self soon. He's still in shock and uncharted territory with Casey all distant and moody. Go with it, yeah? R&R, if you would. I love hearing what you guys think! It inspires me!
Disclaimer: Own nothing. LWD belongs to Canada and its creators (the show's, not the country's). Line and Sink belongs to Billy Talent (wonderful,wonderful band). Blue in the Face belongs to Alkaline Trio (also wonderful).
And….go
Chapter One:
Like Mercury to Hell
Derek glanced at Casey for what seemed the hundredth time since they left London. She was currently staring out the window, watching the blur of highway and cars race by. It didn't even look like she was blinking. Just staring. In the waking sunlight, her bruises were more noticeable. His stomach flipped and then flopped.
He moved his eyes back to the road, trying to ignore the bout of nausea twisting in his stomach. He switched lanes to pass a station-wagon going about sixty kilometers per minute and cussed to himself.
"Stupid slow people," he muttered, passing them. He was ready to flip them the bird as he passed, but quelled the urge when he noticed the graying hair and the thick glasses.
"Old people should not be allowed to drive," he said mostly to himself. He was also hoping that Casey would say something, anything, to defend the elderly woman. But as expected, she continued staring at the passing landscape, completely oblivious that he even existed beyond the point of controlling the Jeep.
Annoyance at being ignored rose up his spine and it took every decent bone in his body not to start yelling at the mute girl.
"You know something's wrong when Casey isn't talking your ear off," he said slightly under his breath. Trying, and failing, to goad her into a fight. At this point, he was desperate for interaction. They'd been on the road for an hour and twenty-three minutes (not that's he's been keeping track) and she's yet to say a single word to him.
"I could leave you on the side of the highway, y'know. That far enough away for you, Spacey?"
Silence followed and his hands tightened on the wheel.
"Fine. I'm turning on music, then. And it's going to be loud and yell-y." No response.
"You're going to hate it." Nothing.
Derek hit the power button to his stereo with more force than was really necessary. With and audible click music echoed. The booming screams of Billy Talent's "Line and Sinker" blared through the speakers, shaking the entire vehicle. Still, Casey stayed unresponsive. Derek yelled with the lyrics, allowing the inharmonious sound to reverberate off his tongue.
It felt good to yell with someone.
"My heart is in the right place. So wipe that smirk right off your face. Don't make me feel like that. 'Cause that's just plain not nice." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slightly turn her head toward him. He screamed louder.
"We don't always see the bright side. And I lied when I said I was fine. You slapped my face today. But I have licked my wounds and carried on."
He could see her face now. It was rueful. Sad. And slightly disgusted. Hecouldn't stop the smirk that crossed his lips. Finally. Areaction.
She didn't speak, still. Merely reached over and gently turned the knob, lowering the volume. His smirk increased. He was getting to her. He was winning.
"What's the matter, princess?" he asked, saccharine sweet.
"My head hurts, Derek." Her voice was tired, worn. Completely un-Casey-like. She sounded as though this was a played out argument. Derek's victorious grin slipped, and he was left with more unease.Who was this girl?
"Sorry," he mumbled, at a loss of what else to say or do. He pulled out a CD sitting in the console and ejected Billy, one handed, making sure to keep his eyes glued to the road, left hand glued to the steering wheel.
He inserted the new choice, allowing the mellow strums of Alkaline Trio to sooth the atmosphere. Uncharacteristic emo-rock filled the cab. Derek saw her form slightly relax, and take to looking out of the windshield, instead of her side window. Progress.
Surprisingly, Casey began to sing along with the song. Derek was shocked. This wasn't her kind of music. It was barely his kind of music.
"It's
about time
That I
came clean with you
No
longer fine
I'm no
longer running smooth."
He took in her soft voice, glad for whatever he could get. It didn't hurt that she had a decent voice. He smiled to himself. They continued like that, him driving, silently listening, while she sang.
"I
thought that I
Found
myself under something new
Just
one more line
I
repeat over and over again
'Til
I'm blue in the face with a choking regret.
As
I talk in circles round you on my bed
Can't
say I blamed you one bit when you kept it all inside
When
you left that night."
Derek saw a sign, declaring that at the next exit, cheap food could be found at any time, day or night. He felt his stomach grumble, and his eyes started feeling a bit heavy.
"And
I don't dream since I quit sleeping
And I
haven't slept since I met you."
Sustenance and caffeine was definitely needed, pronto, if they were going to make it to their destination in one piece.
"Hey, you hungry?" he ventured, hoping that her singing meant interaction. He glanced at her quick enough to see her nodding along with the beat, still singing.
"And
you can't breathe without coughing in daytime
Well
neither can I."
He couldn't tell if she was just bobbing her head or actually answering.
"So what do you say?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Your coffin or mine?"
"I could eat." She extended her hand, pushing the back button, the beginning chords of Blue in the Face filling up the Jeep once more.
"I love this song." Her voice held traces of the Casey he loved to hate, and he made a mental note to track down Alkaline Trio and tell them how eternally grateful he was for their need to pluck at a guitar for a living.
"I didn't notice." He saw a blush creep up her neck, clashing horribly with the blue and purple marks, and he wondered if he would actually be able to keep anything down with the queasiness quickly replacing the rumbles of hunger.
And again, the questions flew through his head, and he wanted nothing more than to shake her, yell in her face, until she answered every single one of them. When, why? What happened? And most importantly, who? But he knew that he'd have to wait it out.
Casey was damn stubborn when she wanted to be.
So, instead of the million and one questions he was dying to ask, he settled for the one he knew she'd have no trouble answering.
"You good with McDonald's, MacDonald?"
"Yeah," she replied breathlessly, before continuing to sing, this time quieter. He couldn't help but notice the hopelessness in her tone.
"I
thought that I
Found
me a cure for feeling old
Just
one more line
To
keep me sleeping loudly and cold
In
disgrace with a shameful regret."
Derek couldn't control the surge of anger that shot through him. Someone had broken Casey, and he vowed to himself, in that tension filled Jeep, doing 90 down the 403 at 5:46 in the morning, he would find out who. And what.
And when he did find whoever it was, he was going to make sure that he made them pay. Severely. With sharp objects. And something pointy and hot.
"Sweet," he responded, no sweetness to his tone. "To the arches of gold, then."
TBC…
