A/N: Written for GJ7B.X's 30 one shot challenge prompt 09: I'm Sorry. I'm not sure of the timeline (thank you Disney), so I made my best guess. Oh, and theres one or two swear words.

Disclaimer: not mine, just playing around with a favorite cannon thread.


Always pushing us apart nothing left but scars fight after fight

The Older I Get – Skillet

and my god how did we survive
the paper scars, oh,
bless my stars,
you said you're sorry

Paper Scars – Love Drug


Scarred

It's finally over. The speeches complete and the hats have been thrown. She didn't trip onto the stage and he actually made it through without needing to attend summer school. As friends, family and faculty descend upon SJS Thompson High's class of 2009, balloons float aimlessly amid the disorder and flowers are crushed between congratulatory hugs.

George ruffles his hair while Marti jumps on his back and squeals with delight as he places his mortarboard on her head and it sinks over her eyes. Sam and Ralph come barreling up and the three of them almost hit the hardwood, if not for running into Nora on his other side. He is still not sure about the validity of a diploma from an institution that would graduate Ralph, but if it's good enough for the University of Toronto, it's good enough for him.

The crowd seems to grow rather than dissipate and Derek is pretty sure he's hugged someone else's grandmother at least twice. He's surprised when Emily gives him a quick squeeze and dissolves into the chaos without lingering. There are flashes going off in every direction adding to his disorientation, but when the next set of arms wrap themselves around his neck in celebration, he achieves instant clarity.

Because he knows it's her.

Before he smells her hair or sees her face, he knows it's her. Just by the way his nerves are screaming at how perfectly his arms fit around her waist, he knows he's hugging Casey.

Damn it.

There is a reason he does not allow her to hug him. He should never, under any circumstances have let his guard down. Because now, how is he suppose to let her go?

Her laugh is in his ear and the minty, fruity smell of her shampoo is in his nose while her knee is between his and her breasts are crushed against his chest. Adrenaline floods his body causing his brain to buzz. His skin feels like its on fire even though there are layers of clothes and graduation robes separating hers from his. And in the mist of all this he's forgotten how to breathe because she just sighs when he tightens his grip on her. He's trying to form a coherent thought, a persuasive sentence that would convince her to not let go. Ever.

But his time is up because she's pulling away. Holding on any longer would make it difficult to keep up the pretense of a friendly hug between step siblings. He knows that when she looks at him all the things he's never said are going to come flooding out unless he comes up with something off the cuff right now. Trouble is, his mind refuses to cooperate, and all he can think about is the way her arms have slid off his shoulders and her hands are now holding his. She squeezes gently and he looks up to see the sheen in her eyes. Before he even opens his mouth, she says

"I'm sorry, I d . . ."

Fuck.

He had known this would happen. But the fact that he knew it would, expected it enough to avoid hugging her for three fucking years, didn't make the misery any less palpable. Playing Let's Make a Deal with the almighty, he's willing to swim through a Fear Factor-esque pit of mice, rodents, what ever so long as he could erase those words from his memory.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, I don't love you.

I'm sorry, I don't really even like you all that much.

I'm sorry, was that your heart I just stomped on the gymnasium floor?

The possibilities were endless. All the things she could say to be logical, reasonable, let him down gently. God, he had to stop her from saying anything else that could be replayed, over and over, through his head while he's not sleeping later tonight. He drops her hands. Swallowing the bile that's risen in his throat, he turns into the crowd.

"I figured you would be."


A/N2: So in my head, this story was longer and happier, but the muse has decided that it ends here with an angsty Derek and a confused Casey, ah… young love.