A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the great reviews! You guys are fantastic, really :)

Chapter 10: Pain Doesn't Hurt Too Badly... Does it?

I came back to consciousness what seemed like hours later, but what Casey soon informed me of what just a few minutes. At first I thought I was dead, cause of all the lights and stuff, but it was only the cops taking a raging George and an ambulance coming for me. I told them repeatedly – with great strain, my throat hurt like hell – that I didn't need to go to the hospital, and that I needed to go home with the kids. But no, they insisted that I get checked out, you know, make sure that there was no damage to my head when I was thrown against the wall, or no brain damage from lack of oxygen.

I vaguely noticed a sort of pressure on my hand, which was Casey squeezing the life out of me. "Casey, I'm fine," I said, growing tired of the lack of circulation in my fingers. I looked to the paramedic, "Tell her I'm fine."

The man with blue eyes and red hair only shook his head and smiled, "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

My eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, 'you can't tell me that'? I've just been slapped four times in the same day, thrown half way across my old house, almost strangled to death, and lost consciousness. I think I deserve to know."

He chuckled, "You're fine. We just need to get you to the hospital so they can check you out, although I'm not sure that it's necessary seeing how alive and well you look. Well, aside from the blood on your cheek, the bump on your head, and the black bruise on your neck in the shape of hands."

"Good point," I said, defeated. For the first time I noticed that Casey had a small stream of tears on her cheeks. "Casey? What's wrong?"

"I thought you were dead," she said, her voice cracking. "You were lying there on the floor, hardly breathing, and your face was so pale-" she stopped here, covering her mouth and closing her eyes.

"I'm fine Casey. I'm breathing, and besides the fact that my father just tried to kill me, I don't think I'll need too much therapy," I said, trying to lighten the mood. Casey only smiled and the paramedic let out a small laugh. "Which you and Pansy are paying for, by the way," I added, to which Casey's face contorted in confusion.

"Huh?" she said, clearly puzzled.

I, being the gentleman that I am, feel it is my duty to inform her, "If it weren't for Pansy, I would've never been suspended, in which case I wouldn't have gotten into the fight with my father, and I wouldn't have moved out. Then, were it not for you not pointing out that my idiotic self had parked right in front the house, I probably wouldn't be here. But it's not your fault," I quickly added, seeing the stricken look on her face. "I should've thought more on my escape plan when I was dropping you off," I said with a grin.

She smiled a little at this, "Who's Pansy?"

Oh, right. I haven't informed her of his real name yet. What's the name everyone else calls them again? "Uh... I don't know his name. He's the guy I beat up," I said, pulling a confused look.

"Oh, you mean Mitch?"

"Ah, so that's what his name is. I just call him Pansy," I said, earning a giggle from her. I smiled at my triumph. Then it quickly dropped, "What about the kids? Did Nora get them? Is Marti okay?"

"They're fine. Mom got them out when the police took George in. They were a little shaken up, and Marti wanted to see you, but Nora said that they'd go to the hospital in the car to see you," Casey said.

"Okay," I said. About five seconds after that, we arrived at the hospital, and I had to wait awhile – did I mention that I'm a very impatient person? And that I don't like hospitals? Not a good combination. I just wanted to get out of there, but then we had to wait for Nora to get there, but that was awhile later, as the ambulance went about two times as fast as our car could ever dream of going (legally).

After the doctor checked me over, she said she'd have to stitch my cheek, which was cut not only from the force of the blow, but from the ring he was wearing. I hadn't even realized that until I thought about it.

So now I'm sitting here on this little table like thing – I've never really figured out what they're called, as I stay away from hospitals as much as possible, especially since Mom – as the doctor stitches up my cheek, and Casey, Nora, Marti, Ed, and Lizzie are all staring at me with avid interest, making me squirm, which in turn made the doctor scold me and tell me to sit still or she'll stitch my cheek to the other side of my face just to spite me.

...are they allowed to do that?

Does my skin even stretch that far?

When I voiced this aloud, she told me to shut up. Well, what can you say to that? Especially to a woman who has a needle in you face? So I did, and managed to sigh many a time before she was finally done, and I literally jumped for joy.

"Smerek, are you all better now?" Marti asked when I picked her up.

"Yep. Never better. Now let's get out of here, please," I said, already leaving towards the door, with Casey, Ed and Lizzie in tow. Nora sighed dejectedly and followed us out. I guess she's had a pretty rough day, what with her husband turning out to be a maniac who abused his kid.

"Smerek, that color of a necklace isn't pretty on you," Marti said, pointing to the bruise on my neck. Hmm, I haven't even thought about it since that paramedic pointed it out. I'll have to look at it when we get to the house.

"I'll bet," I replied, placing her in the middle seat of the car. Ed and Lizzie all climbed into the back, leaving me beside Marti and Casey in the front with Nora. I'm offended – you would at least think that she would try to ride beside me. But then I noticed that she was holding her mother's hand, to which I firmly take back my offense.

We arrived back at the house about ten minutes later, and Marti immediately ran into the house, which had been left open ever since George had dragged me into it. I sighed and slowly made my way back inside. Wow, this place is really messed up. I mean, I didn't even notice how much stuff got messed up when I was getting my beat-down. The coffee table is broken from where he lunged at me and knocked me down on it (that really, really hurt. I'm going to have back problems for days); the desk in the corner of the room beside the stairs was knocked over and slightly dented from where he threw me across the room; pencils and little odds and ends were strewn about the floor, where I'd stumbled back from the unexpected blows. This stuff is going to take a lot of money to fix. Not to mention the case money for... do I even have to say it? My pride (not to mention my body) has taken enough blows for one day, thank you very much.

"Oh, my..." Nora said, obviously a little stricken.

"Look," I started, "I'm sorry, Nora."

She looked a little taken aback at my apology, "I-it's okay, Derek."

"Whoa," Ed exclaimed when he came in and saw the mess, "he really messed this place up, didn't he?"

This earned him a smack on the head from Lizzie, making Edwin look at her with a face that clearly said: What did I do? She rolled her eyes at him and went upstairs to her room (I guess; look, she went upstairs, okay? Geesh, you people are nosy) and Ed followed suit.

"Uh, I'll help clean up, okay?" I said, and began to make my way through the mess, picking up all of the things that had fallen off of, well... whatever else I had hit. She didn't say anything, just continued to stand there, that same baffled look on her face. Casey took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly before coming to help me.

About half an hour later (give or take a few minutes), the room was still a little worse for wear, but it was certainly cleaner. Nora and George's picture that they had taken shortly after they were wed is broken, there's no coffee table, and Nora will have to buy a new one – plus a desk, I guess – but it's pretty clean. Nora hasn't moved from that spot, nor has her face changed. I'm a little concerned.

"Nora? Are you gonna be okay?" I asked cautiously, coming up to her slowly. Casey is sitting on the couch, looking at her mother with a look of pure concern, but I guess she doesn't know what to do. I carefully took her hand and pulled her towards the couch. "Nora, just sit down. I'll go and... make dinner," I said, gently pushing her down on the sofa next to Casey. You'd think I would be the one acting like she was, but nooo...

What to make, what to make...? Ah, screw it. I'll just make mac & cheese and get it over with. It's not like I know how to cook anything else. Well, aside from toast and cereal, but they don't count. After I put the noodles in the water, I sat down on the bar stool beside the counter and sighed. My neck really hurts. Not to mention I still have that blasted headache.

I got up and found an aspirin, poured a glass of water and downed them both. The pounding in my head slowly dwindled down to nothing, and I swear, I want to go and hug the dude who came up with this stuff.

"Derek?" Casey asked as she came into the kitchen.

"Yeah?" I said quietly, trying not to talk so loudly that my headache comes back.

"What are you making?" she asked after a beat of silence.

"Well," I began, "aside from the none-existent hor'deurves, you will be enjoying a wonderful, cheesy meal: Mac & Cheese. Then for dessert, well... you're on your own," I said with a grin.

She giggled, "Okay. Sounds good," she said and kissed my cheek before heading back into the living room. Well, gee, no one likes to keep me company, now do they? Ugh.

0o

I went back to my apartment about an hour later, after feeding everyone and hugging Marti, then stealing a kiss from Casey when no one was looking. I was just about ready to collapse on my bed when I remembered that I never looked at my neck.

I slowly trudged to the bathroom and looked in the mirror that's over the sink. Dude, no wonder it hurts to talk. The bruise is almost solid black, with splashes of purple near where I assumed his palms were. My right cheek was badly bruised, although not as bad as my neck. It was more blue and purple or whatever. It also had about a two-inch long stitch diagonally dancing across my face, as if mocking me that my dad beat me up. I reached to the back of my head and cringed when I felt the giant bump there.

Yep. This is my life.

Poor Derek. But it's okay, cos he's got Casey. ;)

--Enter Derek, bruised and everything, holding Casey's hand for encouragement--

"...um, so... this is awkward... but, do you wanna do somethin for me? Like, a personal favor? :looks down nervously: Um... could you possibly... well... could you... review... you know, just so I can know what you think?"

;)