I didn't know it was possible for my brain to move so quickly while my body was cemented to the porch.
You know how people say that time slows down in moments of tragedy? They're wrong. Time forges ahead at its regular speed, but you slow down, unable to react, unable to stop anything, unable to prevent someone from getting hurt.
So while my body caught up, the only thought in my head was Mac.
Is she ok? Is she hurt? Where did she learn that? Do I want to know how she learned that, or worse, do I know already?
The few people still on the porch with me were staring at me, not at ground zero. It dawned on me eventually that I was saying it out loud - I was repeating Mac on an endless loop out loud without moving. That snapped me back, thank god.
I leapt over the stairs, pushing a few dudes in half-assed NFL "costumes" out of my way. Skidding to a stop five feet away from her, I almost tripped over that motherfucker Chase lying on the grass, hands covering his crotch and whining like he'd been shot. If I have anything to say about it, he'll have something to cry about really fucking soon. I couldn't see anything else. It all went white and burning, like a stroke of lightning.
"Calm down."
How fucking dare he? Calm down? I was supposed to be calm when he attacked one of my best friends? When he tried to… do whatever it was he tried to do to my...whatever she is? I'm pretty sure the word "calm" wouldn't be returning to my vocabulary any time soon. Probably around the same time the word "functioning" returns to his.
"Calm down. Dick, calm down. I'm fine."
It's Mac, not the brother formerly known as Chase. She has her hand on my arm, trying to keep me from committing multiple felonies.
Taking care of everyone, as usual.
Momentarily obeying, I turn to her, putting myself between her and that worm. Both of my hands are on her face before I even notice, but she clearly does, because her eyes go a little wide and her breath stalls.
"Are you ok?" It's barely a whisper, but she nods anyway. My chest flutters a little, proud of the fact that she knew I would ask.
"I'm ok, I promise. I actually feel…kind of proud." She smiles. In the middle of this crowd, this scene, this mess, she fucking smiles, and I have the strangest urge to kiss her.
She looks over my shoulder at the ground, and I whip around to see Chase struggling to his feet. Not on my watch, bitch. I move to lunge, but Mac has my wrist in some kind lock, tethering us together.
"Dick, don't." She juts her chin out, gesturing toward the crowd. Logan, Veronica, and Wallace are shoving their way to the front, rage and terror on their faces.
"Mac! Oh my god, Mac. What happened? Are you hurt?" In a shocking turn. V has the decency to forego her taser in favor of clucking over Mac. Clearly, she hadn't gotten out of the house in time to see the big show.
Some part of my brain says it's time to let go of her hand, but I really don't want to. It's not that weird. We did come as a couples costume, after all.
She pats my hand reassuringly, and I drop it. Thankfully, the bonds of brotherhood remain strong, and Logan already has Chase back on the ground with an assist from Wallace.
"Get him up." I bark.
He's in bad shape, and that brings me joy. Time to rally the troops.
"How many of you saw what happened just now?" A few scattered hands float up around the crowd, not wanting to be the first. Cowards.
"Let me try again. How many people saw this asshole" - I shove Chase in the solar plexus, just for good measure - "try to attack Mac, and miserably fail?" More hands, some whoops from our better brothers and cheers from plenty of the girls. "Excellent."
Logan and Wallace push him toward me, and god help me, he has the gall to look me in the eye. I'm an inch from him, making my voice an icepick in his ear.
"Did you see all those people. Chase? All those witnesses? Now, I know that Mac proved herself more than enough to put the fear of god in you, but I swear, none of us will have any trouble testifying to that effect. Clear?"
He looks away. Good enough for me. "Get out. Consider your room here condemned."
Logan and Wallace remove him from the lawn a little too gently for my taste, tossing him onto the street like the garbage he is. The crowd finally disperses, with scattered applause and many nods of approval.
I turn around, mostly satisfied, to find just Ronnie staring back at me. Her expression is all out of sorts with her costume. Her blithe, knowing smile has been replaced by a mix of shock, concern, exhaustion, and, weirdest of all, gratitude.
I give her a small nod, letting her off the hook. "Where is she?"
She chucks her chin in the direction of the frat house. She barely hesitates at all. The earth is definitely spinning off its axis.
I survived.
I survived and I kicked his ass. And I know Dick is surely barreling back through the crowd right now, testing the strength of the stairs on his way up, but I just wanted half a moment to myself.
I did all that myself.
I have a lot to be thankful for in this half moment - Logan and Wallace jumping into the fray with zero context necessary, Dick using his hypnotic powers on the crowd and actually listening to me for once, Veronica trusting me enough to let me go back inside instead of to the ER - but I saved myself.
He's there when I look up again, blacking out the doorway like he's not sure he'd survive the approach.
"You lost your eyepatch."
"How did you know which room was mine?"
"Easy. The girls-on-sports-cars art, the mostly-made bed, the smell of the ocean without any actual surf equipment."
His eyebrows keep climbing. "Really? The smell of the ocean?"
I take a fluorescent orange T-shirt from the bed and toss it at him, grinning.
"Or I just know your T-shirt collection." It's an old one from Neptune High. I'd wager that he leaves stuff here he doesn't really wear but can't let go. It's the Cassidy effect. It had a way of making spaces into time capsules. Mine is my closet at my parents' house.
He finally smiles a little, which is just so much easier to handle than that broken look of his. We'd both had too much of that for one lifetime. He wavers a little, taking another half step in.
"Dick, this is your room. You can come in." Then he's there, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me, keeping a suspiciously respectful distance with his head in his hands.
"Are you ok? Because I know you kicked his ass, and we are going to talk about that later, and I know you can take care of yourself because you've always been able to do that, but are you ok? Are you really ok?"
Dick Casablancas, rambling over me. Who'd have thought?
"Richard Casablancas, would you please look at me?" He does, and maybe it's all the excitement, maybe it's our newfound friendship or whatever, but my insides go a little flippy. "I appreciate your concern, and your help, but I'm really ok. For once." I scoff a little, just so he knows I'm mostly kidding. The corner of his mouth quirks up a little, finally.
"You kicked his fucking ass." We laugh. Some things don't change, and Dick's mouth is one of them.
Then he pulls me into a hug, and fuck if I don't feel a little less shaky when he does. His hand traces circles on my back and he kisses the top of my head, like we've been doing this forever. That, at least is a change for the better.
I let him hold on, check me over for injuries, until he's satisfied that I'm not secretly hiding a bullet wound or something. He pulls back, which sucks for some reason, and I realize I'm tearing up. The fake kevlar of his costume is wet.
"Is it weird?" Barely audible, like he was outside. Like he's not sure he wants the answer.
"No. I thought it would be, but it's not." I'm not saying Cassidy hasn't entered my mind, but he's not standing there with a bullhorn and a lit match. "Is it weird for you?"
He shrugs. "I'm not sure. It's not uncomfortable or anything, being with you, I just sometimes get this feeling...like I'm about to fuck up the one thing he really cared about." His gaze falls to his hand on mine, which I honestly hadn't even noticed.
When did it become un-noticeable that Dick was holding my hand?
"I think he tried to care, Dick. Maybe he did in his own way. But after what he did to me on grad night... my feelings about him change every day, but you don't need to protect him around me. I know everything he was, good and bad."
He surges forward again, gathering me up in his arms, and I try not to read too much into how badly I wanted that.
"I'm so glad you're ok."
Same here.