Sleeping with Casey was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. It was just…weird. Here was someone who I was supposed to love, because she was my sister, who I behaved as though I hated, because that was what we did, but who had the power to take my familiar (dis)organised world and turn it on its head. (i.e. Organise it!). She should not be lying next to me, we should not be quietly talking to each other, and I should not be holding her.

But I was.

Her body was cooler than it should be, and I put that down to shock. I hugged her close turning her towards me, and wrapping my arms around her small frame and resting my chin on her head.

I was comfortable, but I only truly examined how I felt about it all at a much later date, however, because at the time all that filled my mind was the devastation that my visit had caused her; the grief that she wouldn't have known if I hadn't knocked on her door.

That wasn't true, of course. Someone would have phoned her, or phoned the administration department and arranged for someone to tell her face to face. But, instead Nora had begged me to do it, saying that even if it was me it would give Casey more comfort than a name-less stranger. She hadn't needed to beg for long. I said yes straight away…and without thinking.

The apprehension came later. How would she take it coming from me? The phrase, Don't shoot the messenger sprang to mind.

Well that was okay, because she hated me anyway.

I bent my neck to look at her. The tears were still coming even if her sobs had eased, but I saw that as a good sign. It had seriously scared me when she didn't cry for so long. The grief needed an outlet. I would have considered the possibility that she hadn't understood my words, but the 'vomiting on Derek' bit belied that.

"I'm sorry about the mess." She whispered, ignoring the brother comment I had just made, and eerily reading my own mind.

"So you should be." I joked, and then relented. "It's nothing Casey. Rosie will wash my clothes. You can't help gut-reactions."

She sniffed at my unintentional pun.

"What did mom say? When she phoned, the first time?" She asked and her voice was so quiet I hardly heard.

I rubbed at my eyes with my free hand and took a deep breath, replaying the conversation in my own mind.

"Hi Nora!" I had answered the phone cheerily. I was getting ready for a date and was just about to go in the shower.

"Derek." Nora said and then stopped. I frowned and waited. Something in her tone was off, and I thought I heard a sniff. She coughed.

"Derek. I need you to do me a big favour."

When she spoke I knew something was seriously wrong, and I thought of all the things it could possibly be. Was someone sick? Marti and Robbie's faces flashed to mind. I loved all my family, but for some reason it was those two I thought of first. Those two…and Casey. But I hadn't let her face appear, because I was well practiced at pushing thoughts of her away.

"Okay…" I said, cautiously, bracing myself.

"I need you to go and see Casey…"

"Nora…I…!

"Derek, this is no time for feuds, okay? Dennis has…died" her voice broke and the rest of her sentence was garbled. "And I need you to break it to Casey." Her voice altered. "Please." She urged.

I had gasped when she told me. I coughed to clear my throat, and frowned because the death of Casey's father hit me harder than it should have done.

"No problem." I said. "How did he die?"

"He went to a convenience store late last night and walked in on a robbery. He tried remonstrating with the gunman and got shot in the process. Just tell Casey he was shot in a robbery. I don't know all the details and until I do I don't want her to assume anything."

"How did you find out?"

"I'm his next of kin. He told me he was keeping me as his next of kin because he had no one else, not until Casey was grown up. How can she ever be grown up enough to take a phone call like that?"

I ran my fingers through my hair.

"I'll go over there now. Do you have her address?"

"Are things that bad between you?" Nora asked, concerned that I didn't even know where she lived.

I laughed humourlessly. "Not bad. We're uncomfortable around each other, so we avoid each other. It works well."

She sighed, and gave me the address. I was surprised at how close to my own residence it was.

"Call me when you're done." She stated. I agreed and we hung up.

I pressed the down arrow on my phone and picked a number from it.

"Charlotte? It's Derek. Listen, I'm going to have to cancel. We've had a death in the family and I need to go tell my…step- sister."

I explained. Casey took slow, forced breaths.

"And later. After I was sick?"

I had answered the phone as I left Casey and walked out of the door. It was Dad.

"Hello Dad." I acknowledged.

"Derek."

"How are Nora and Lizzie?"

"Not good. How's Casey?"

I took a deep breath. "Not good either."

"You can handle tears." My father said.

I sat down on the top step of the staircase.

"Yes. But she isn't crying. She threw up on me and that was it."

"Threw up on you?" My dad sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. Five times."I exaggerated. The second through fifth times had been into her bin.

"I'm worried about her, D." Dad said, and for the first time I realised how much he loved her.

"So am I, dad."I admitted honestly. "Why won't she cry?" The concept of wanting there to be tears was alien to me.

"Bring her home."

"Yeah. I got that game tomorrow morning, but as soon as it is over, we'll get on the road."

"Thanks son. And make sure you go to the game, Nora would hate for you to miss it."
"I'd better go. I left her with some mad Irish girl. She's like a leprechaun on acid."

Despite himself, George sniggered.

"That'll be Rosie. She's a character alright." Then he remembered his responsibilities.

"Where will you be if we need you?" He asked.

"Here. I'll sleep here tonight."

"At Casey's?" Dad sounded surprised.

"Yeah. Why?" I knew why. Because I wasn't renowned for my sensitivity when it came to Casey, but if my father thought back he would remember that actually, this wasn't the first time I'd been nice to her.

"Nothing. Give us a call when you are on your way."

"Will do."

"It was dad that phoned." I said quietly.

"Oh. How are Mom and Lizzie?"

I kissed the top of her head. "Like you." I said honestly. "Not good."

Casey moved closer to me. I thought it was because she was upset about her Mom and sister, so it was a surprise when she spoke.

"I missed you." She said so softly, I almost didn't hear the words "Thank you. For being the one who told me. It can't have been easy and I know it was worse because it meant seeing me again."

I sighed. "Case…"

"It's okay, Derek. I just wanted you to know that I was okay with everything. And I am grateful."

We lapsed into silence. I handed her another tissue and she mopped up more tears.

"You should try to sleep, Casey. Your body is in shock."

"I know…I just…why are you here and not Rosie?"

"Do you want me to get Rosie?"

"No."

"I've got a game in the morning, so I'll have to leave Rosie looking after you then. I told her to go to bed and get a good night's sleep."

"But you've got a game and you've got to drive tomorrow."

Hmmm. She called me out on that one!

"Casey. I'm here. Shut up and go to sleep."

She sniffed again and said nothing else.

Surprisingly, we both slept well. Despite the unexpected weights on my chest, physical and emotional.

I woke first and found Casey still wrapped around me in a vice-like grip. It was probably a good job I had grown up a bit since our teenage years. There was still the residual temptation to push her away dramatically shouting… "Ew!"

But I had grown up, and waking up with her so close wasn't as unpleasant as a younger me would have suggested.

Not unpleasant at all. I thought, as I played with the strands of her hair where it tickled my chest, thinking back to when we first came to college.

After a moment, I shook myself and looked at the nightstand. Casey's clock said it was 8.00am which meant I needed to get up and go home so that I could pack and get ready for my game. First I had to extricate myself from my step-sister's embrace, preferably without waking her.

No such luck!

As soon as I started to ease myself free, Casey stirred.

"Derek?" she questioned, sleepily.

"Go back to sleep, hun. I'm just going to my place to pack. I'll be back after the game to pick you up."

"Okay." She murmured, smiling. She frowned slightly, and then she blinked. "Oh!" And I could tell the reality of last night had just hit her. I watched her face crumple, the tears start to fall, and then the sobs began again. I sat back down on the bed and cuddled her to me.

"I know hun."

It took me ten minutes to calm her down to the point where I could leave her, but when I did manage to get away and open her door, there was a pile of my clean clothes waiting outside for me. Rosie had done my laundry.

I dressed quickly, and threw the discarded clothes onto Casey's chair. She could keep them, but we should take them back to London to be washed again.

Downstairs, Rosie, dressed and ready to take charge, was waiting.

"How is she?" She asked in a subdued tone.

"Teary."

"Thank goodness!" Rosie had evidently been as worried about Casey's lack of tears as I had. I nodded.

"She cried in the night and then again when I left her this morning."

"I think I'd cry if you left me in bed too." A tall blonde girl said as she came down the stairs. Rosie and I ignored her.

"That's Simone." Rosie whispered. "She wasn't around last night, so she doesn't know why you are here, so excuse the crass comment."

"I'm going back to my place to pack, and I'll be back to pick her up about 1pm. Any chance you could help Casey…"

"…pack? Sure. I'll have her ready to go."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She grinned. "We should see more of you around here."

I scratched at the back of my head and smirked.

"Somehow I doubt Casey would agree."

.

The rain had stopped when I emerged from the house and crossed the street to my car. I glanced at my watch and swore. I needed to get a move on if I was going to get everything sorted before the game. I started the engine, strapped myself in and pulled careful out into the traffic flow.

It was a dreary day, even without the clouds left over from yesterday's rain or my current state of mind. I needed my lights on and occasionally the wipers as the residue of the wet evening got kicked up onto the windshield. The people I saw on the sidewalk were well wrapped up and hurrying. It wasn't a day to enjoy a stroll.

The roads became familiar as I made my way to my fraternity house. It took less than five minutes and I felt another pain of guilt over the close proximity between Casey's house and my own – and our lack of contact. Things hadn't always been as distant between us and whilst I still saw the distance as necessary, I still felt maybe I should have been a better…brother?...to her. Why had it taken the death of her father to make me go to see her?

I knew the answer and so did Casey.

Pushing the past from my mind, I pulled up outside the house and tried to concentrate on the here and now. I parked and left the car, dashing into the house as quickly as I could because I really had very little time.

As I reached my room and opened the door, I was already making a haphazard list of the things I would need in London, as well as the few items of hockey stuff I would need that weren't contained in my locker. I grabbed my holdall and started taking clothes from my drawers and chucking them into the bag.

"Someone's in a hurry." A voice said from the doorway. "What's her name? And why are you running? Daddy after you with a gun?"

I flicked my eyes to my moron of a friend, Tom.

"Not in the mood, asshole." I said, without any real malice. Tom came into the room.

"Seriously, dude. What's the hurry?"

"I've got to go home for a few days – after the game – and I need to pack now."

"I thought we were going to Jose's party tonight."

I picked up my laptop bag and checked the power cord was inside, and then I reached for my cell phone charger and slipped that in too.

"Casey's dad died. I've got to drive her back home."

"Oh shit! Sorry D. That's where you were last night?" I nodded. "How is she?"

"A mess. She threw up on me when I told her."

Tom, never one for tack, grinned. "I told you that you would exchange bodily fluids with her one day."

I paused. "Tom…seriously…that is so…words fail me, man." I shook my head at him and resumed what I was doing, but I couldn't help the slight upwards tug on my mouth at his comment.

Tom was one of the few friends I had maintained from the very beginning of college, so he had been there through the whole "Casey" thing.

"So how was it? Seeing her again?"

I shrugged. "I see her every vacation, T."

"Not really. You drive home in silence and you avoid each other the whole time you're there. I know. You told me. How does she look?"

"She looks like Casey. Tom. A very upset Casey."

He backed off. "Sorry."

I went to grab my washbag from the bathroom.

"Sorry Tom. I'm just in a rush, and to be honest with you…I liked Dennis. I'm sad that he's gone. And I've always hated it when Casey cries."

"I remember." Tom said quietly.

I looked up at him, figuring maybe a little honesty with him wouldn't hurt.

"She looks good. And I broke her heart again."