Scream at me. I beyond-deserve it.
DISCLAIMER: Her Name Is Erika promised me Derek's character for Christmas. Maybe Santa's late this year?
It was an explosion. A dissolution, an absolution. A scream, a whisper. A prayer, a promise. An answer. It was.
--Simplicity Itself
White lines that never fade
Burn deep with everyday
And I need to know
Pull me out so I can feel
Make me believe, that one more night's
Not a minute too long when a moment's all I need
You'll marry the night
Dance with the pain but you don't mind
See the city burn tonight, hearts up in flames
Would you carry me away?
Long Hallway With a Broken Light- Thriving Ivory
He first met her when he was eight.
She'd moved in the house next door to his. One look at the mop of unruly curls and stern expression and he knew she was someone he wouldn't mess with.
The first time the Davis' came over for a welcoming party to his house, they were sent out to play together.
She had looked at him imperiously and ordered; "Now we'll play 'Fairy Queen'. You can be my slave."
(He didn't have a mirror at the time, but he's sure his expression would have been blackmail material for Casey.)
"I'm a boy; I don't play little-girl games." He said, shocked.
"Don't you know any little-girl games?" The surprising creature asked him with condescending pity. "Don't worry, I'll teach you."
"ME? I don't want to learn," with a certain bitter remembrance of pencil-blue eyes and first kisses, "I dislike girls."
She looked at him in comical horror, "But I'm a girl. You're a stupid boy, but I like you. Don't you like me?"
He stayed silently, watching in slowly growing dismay as her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm crying. You're making me cry 'cause you won't say you like me." She sobbed.
If there was one thing he couldn't bear, it was tears. He hated the way they made him feel, as if he had done something so wrong, he'd never be able to do anything to make up for it.
"I do." He burst in, "I do, honestly. I like you, a lot. Don't cry"
"And you like all little girls?"
"Er…yes, yes. I do."
"You're wishing you were a little girl, aren't you?"
He looked around for escape, finding none; he turned back, "Um…yes."
A radiant smile peeped out from behind the curls and an authoritative voice proclaimed, "Good. Now you can be my slave"
And out there in the garden, playing Fairy Queen with a little bushy-haired girl, who had used him to get her way, he felt he might actually have found a girl whom he could be (just) friends with.
*
He doesn't know why it changed. Why the first signs of a broken voice, and girls falling over him turned her from the no-nonsense girl he'd known into a simpering mess.
He deliberately stopped paying attention to her after that. He didn't want her crush to develop into something that would end up hurting her. In some dark corner of his mind, she was still the first girl he'd ever considered as a potential friend.
(Besides heartbreaks didn't belong in the world of fairy-queens.)
Their relationship is founded on partial amnesia.
Every day starts off with a clear memory of the insults, the pranks and an unquenchable thirst for retribution.
The other memories (smileswhisperstouches) just fade away into some dark recesses of their mind, classified as 'dangerous'.
So by ignoring him after the…incident, she's broken the golden rule. She's made 'it' real. She's showing she hasn't forgotten, and she's not allowed him to forget either. And now he can't stop this thing she (he, them, who even cares now?) started.
(Doesn't mean he has to like it.)
He hates this pathetic freak he's become.
When did he sink so deep, that he's actually glad that Sam and Max are one-syllable names? When in his life did the gods grant him personal loserdom… to the extent that he's ready to kiss Noel's parents for giving him the no-name Nole, instead of the more accepted No-elle?
Because that means she can never say Noel's name like she says his. No S-am, M-ax, No-le.
Just De-rek.
Just him.
(He doesn't know whether his brain has short-circuited. But either way, he thinks it's time to consider intensive psychotherapy.)
*
Dad and Nora forgive them (eventually).
It involves an hour-long torturous interview. As soon as Nora starts shooting around words like 'disappointed' and 'How could you not think of your siblings' he knows Casey's ready to beg for forgiveness at her feet and pledge lifelong celibacy.
(Sucker)
And then comes the torturous part in which George barely manages to stutter out the words 'College' and 'protection' along with 'responsibility' thrown in for good measure.
She's looking at George, her eyes glazed over, her entire face a deep brick red (he wants to touch to see if it burns his skin.) He's so crazy with wanting to prolong that (insanely hot) look on her face, so he does the first thing he can think of.
(Just as a general warning, maybe you should check the present company before beginning on flavoured condoms.)
Dad and Nora aren't in a position to continue the interview after that.
(The …downshot of it all? Yeah, they're still going to share a flat.)
It's a familiar pattern now.
(He's so used to not existing that sometimes he's almost taken aback to see himself in the mirror.)
So the fact that she's in his room, obviously means the blow-up is about something big, like...
"I can't believe it! You kissed her. Again."
(She's nothing if not unoriginal.)
"Can't you? Don't worry, I have video proof."
She had glared at him, "You're disgusting. And it's completely wrong."
"And you're a prude. Feel free to leave my room any time."
(Or join him on the bed. He's not picky.)
"She's my cousin. And you're my stepbrother."
"So that would make us...step-cousins? If she has my kids, they'll be half step-cousin-sibling-somethings."
(Psych.)
"You slept with her?"
(....aaand Bingo. He gets the expression he was aiming for. He doesn't understand why Casey-101 isn't in his syllabus. He'd totally be acing it.)
"Those little moans she makes, they're quite addicting. Is there any way we can trade. You for her? I understand it'll be very unfair on Harry and Fiona, though."
(He could send them the Casey Instruction Manual. He has enough material for one.)
Casey decides to ignore that. She picks on a new refrain.
"Then she'll be your step-sister. And it'd be wrong. Even more wrong than it is now."
(What's the deal with today's world. Don't they know what to do in an emergency? You dial 9-1-1. Is everybody going to stand watching while his heartbeat slows down to zero?)
He thinks (pretends to think. Just like he pretends a lot of things. Strange.)
"It's not illegal." (That's an interesting piece of information. He didn't look it up. He was researching. On human relationships. For extra-credit. In Sociology. How do you think he got into college?)
"Some people know how to live. And live dangerously. If she was my step-sister, we'd have late nights, and would be making a mess of pristine white sheets, and moans of De-reks would..."
He stops.
Because. (De-rek.)
(Fuck)
"NotDe-rek," he always speaks that fast. You have a problem with that? "Derek. Just...Derek."
Vicky would call him Derek.
He can't even spell disappointment. (Is that a double 's' or double 'p' or a double both? And who the fuck cares.) What are the chances he's ever looked it up in the dictionary?
I can't believe people are still reading this.
It sucks. Please forgive me. I'm so terribly bad at writing these days. It's like a massive writer's block. I hope it works for you anyway.
And yes, the Derek-Emily meeting is inspired by the Just William series (I adore them!) The memories were meant to be a Casey-free Derek psycho-analysis. Obviously I didn't keep to that. We all know how much Casey hates it when things aren't about her. She's stubborn like that.
