Next Day

Casey awoke, the air still thick in the Venturi-MacDonald household. But, still, she had to move on with her life.

Marti would want that.

Picking out an outfit, any old thing that brushed her hands, she made her way down the steps.

The house was quiet and nobody was found anywhere. She pursed her lips as she made herself a bowl of cereal. Casey began to eat.

As she put everything away, she glanced at the clock. She and Derek were to be in school in half an hour. Why wasn't he up?

Turning around, she tip-toed up the steps to her step-brother's room. She raised her fist to bang on the door and froze. Why would she do that? Force of habit...

Instead, with the tip of her index finger, she tapped at the door. "Derek?"

Nothing.

Trying the handle, she found it locked. Shaking her head, she looked around for the flip in the carpetting Edwin had told her Derek had hidden a key, for in case he should lock himself out his own room. Finding it, she grabbed the key and unlocked the door.

And she became confused.

There was no Derek, only a huddle upon his bed, covered in a bundle. Cautiosley, she walked forward. As she drew closer, she noticed the figure shuddering and shivering.

"Derek?"

"AHGH!" Casey yelped, jumping back once Derek shot up. The boy was panting badly, a crazed look in his eyes. "Marti!"

Casey overcame her shock and raced to her step-brother, holding him down as he let every part of his body fly about. She bit her tongue as he had begun to kick her and beat her, telling herself that for once, he wasn't meaning to hurt her. Repeatedly, the sixteen-year-old called out for Marti, the movements increasing every minute. Casey was forced to dig in her nails, spilling blood even if it was little. She had no other choice. He was a crazy man at this moment.

Knowing nothing else to do, she embraced him like she had wanted to at the hospital. Derek still pulsed against her, calling out for the three-year-old they all missed.

But not for long.

In a period of ten minutes and twenty-one seconds, Derek had morphed from a teenage, cocky boy who played hockey and whom's favorite pastime was to bug his step-sister and new expanded family or flock with the female species to a crazy man who saw nothing but the dead and involuntarily beat the living to, finally, a sobbing, broken soul.

And Casey comforted him none the less.

She rubbed his back, brushing his hair, comforting him with names that a mother would to their child. But it didn't bother Casey at this moment. At this moment, Derek was a hurt three-year-old.

Just like Marti.

"I'm so scared. I'm so scared..."

Casey nodded. "We all are, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep. Ok?"

Derek nodded into Casey's shoulder and Casey pushed him back into his mattress. She pushed the covers over him and brushed his hair out of his eyes as soon as his eyelids began to droop.

He's not going to stay like that for long...

Thinking on her feet, as usual, Casey rushed to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Looking upon the colorful labels, one popped out at her, but she ignored it for now. "Here we are." Grabbing a seperate and filling a glass of water and shuffling back to Derek's room.

"Derek? Sweetheart, wake up for a second."

Derek obeyed and Casey had to bite her already swollen lip at the sight of his puffy, red, swollen brown eyes that so little ago held a sparkle of life never ending. Shaking her head, Casey pulled up Derek's head a little, prying apart his lips with the side of the glass and pouring the drug-induced water down his throat.

And immediately, Derek fell asleep.