A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And just a little warning for everyone: this chapter contains abuse/violence/profanity, so read at your own risk (even though it's a short, but meaningful, scene). This is the last chapter, but a sort of "sequel" could be in the works... )
Disclaimer: I don't own Radio Free Roscoe or any of its characters, etc. I do own the Watson family, though :P
CHAPTER TEN:
Home Sweet Home
Cassandra bid Travis goodnight, telling him that she'd see him the next day. Her smile wavered as she approached her cousin. Lily looked angry, and Cassandra really didn't want to hear it, but she stayed where she was.
"I think you're horrible for leading Ray on," Lily remarked, the venom in her voice unmistakable.
Cassandra crossed her arms over chest. "But?"
Lily began running her fingers through her long, blond tresses, a nervous gesture Cassandra recognized. "But, I'm kind of glad you did. When I saw you with him, it actually made me jealous. You made me realize that I, you know, that I love Ray, and that I've been denying my feelings for him all these years."
Cassandra held her hand out to Lily, helping her up. Lily smiled a bit, gently squeezing her cousin's hand. "Now we've both gotten what we want..."
Nodding, Cassandra followed her into the house. "Yeah," she murmured. "We did."
------ ------ ------
Just one week later, Cassandra's parents showed up in Roscoe, moving trucks following in their wake. Apparently, the house in Victoria sold faster than everyone had expected, and that's how Cassandra and the rest of the RFR gang found themselves helping to unload the trucks into the Watsons' new home, just a block from the Randall's.
"Where do you want these?" asked Ray, holding up a small box of wooden Buddhas and crystal angels.
Not paying attention, Cassandra pointed towards the window seat of her new room. "Just throw them over there."
A distinct crash made her wince. Lily slugged Ray in the arm, saying, "Not literally, idiot!"
"Ow Lily! That hurt."
Lily just rolled her eyes, setting a box of photo albums onto Cassandra's newly-put together bed. Taking pity on him, she kissed his cheek, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she and Ray were together... as in boyfriend and girlfriend. They were all going into 11th grade after all, so Lily figured it was about time. And all it took was an evil cousin to come between them.
Ray went back out to the trucks, wanting to help Travis and Robbie carry in Cassandra's huge dresser.
An album fell from the box, its pages flipping open. Lily bent over and picked it up, surveying the pictures her cousin had so carefully taped in.
"Hey, who's that?" she asked, pointing to one of a slim red haired girl, grinning and posing for the camera.
Cassandra looked up from arranging piles of books onto a shelf. Lily held up the album, and Cassandra replied, "Oh, that's Katie Malloy... a friend of mine from BC." She smiled sadly. "Best friend, actually."
"You miss her."
Cassandra nodded. "A lot."
------ ------ ------
Two days later, the Watsons had settled into their new home. This didn't stop the arguments and disagreements about furniture placement, grocery lists, or money, however. Cassandra was lying on her four-poster bed in her new room, trying to lose herself in Thomas Harris' Red Dragon, as well as the new Velvet Revolver CD that was blaring through her headphones.
A loud shriek and crashing sound cut through the music, causing the book to slip from Cassandra's grip and onto the floor. She pulled her headphones off, setting them down beside her discman slowly, an acute sense of dread turning her insides to ice.
Cassandra stood, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms onto her short jean cutoffs. She absolutely hated when her parents fought... especially since her mother always ended up with bruises the next day, and her father, a hangover.
She made her way down the winding main staircase, careful not to make a sound. Peeking around the corner and into the spacious kitchen, Cassandra saw her mom sprawled out on the linoleum floor, sobbing, a shattered vase resting in pieces at her arm. Todd Watson stood a few feet away by the counter, face red, a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He suddenly spotted his daughter. "C'mere Cassie," he slurred, voice dangerously low.
She stepped into the kitchen, instinctively obeying him, shaking from head to toe, determined not to cry. Her father despised weakness of any kind.
"Leave her alone, Todd," Rachel Watson whispered harshly to her husband, not daring to move from her painful position on the cold floor.
He glared at his wife, slamming the bottle onto the counter top. "Shut up, bitch!" Turning to a terrified Cassandra, he held out his arms, pleading with mock-sincerity, "Gimme a hug, Cassie baby. Come and give daddy a hug. I missed you," he added, as she hugged him tentatively, not wanting to make any sudden moves, lest he hurt her and her mother even more.
Pulling away, he gripped his only daughter's arms painfully hard. "Have you found yourself a boyfriend yet, Cassie? It's been a few weeks, someone must have caught your wandering eye by now..." Cassandra swallowed a sob. Eyes burning with tears, she mumbled "no". Todd shook her hard, shouting, "You have too, you little slut! I'm sure you've fucked the entire football team by now —"
"Todd!" his wife chastised. She stood up, legs shaky, holding a dish towel against the large bloody gash on her arm. The woman moved to pull her daughter away from him, but in the next instant, he had slapped Cassandra, sending her tumbling into Rachel, both slamming into the refrigerator.
Anger surged through the teenage girl. She stumbled away from her weak mother and alcoholic father, feeling disgusted. It was nearly midnight, and Cassandra barely knew her way around Roscoe, but she ran out of the house anyway. The night was muggy, the air thick and stifling in anticipation of an oncoming storm. Cassandra almost smiled as she thought about how the weather always seemed to reflect her mood. She soon found herself at the local park, just as the first rumble of thunder and streak of lightning filled the sky. Just my luck, Cassandra thought wryly, curling up on a nearby bench.
Now what was she supposed to do? She couldn't possibly stay outside all night, sleeping on a bench like some hobo. Glancing around, Cassandra spotted a phone booth a few meters away.
Just as she stepped into the haven of rectangular glass, the rain came pouring down. She picked up the thick black receiver, searching her mind frantically for Travis' cell phone number. Finally, she remembered it, and hurriedly punched in the numbers.
On the tenth ring, he picked up.
"Mmmph?"
Obviously, Cassandra had woken him up. "Travis? It's Cassandra, I —"
"Cass? What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly wide awake.
Her throat choked with tears, she barely managed to whisper, "My parents — were fighting. I ran out and now...I'm in the park..."
"Don't worry. I'll be right there."
The phone died before either of them could hang up properly. Cassandra suddenly felt nauseous, as she slumped down the side of the enclosed space, pressing her face against the cool glass.
A spark of hope ignited inside of Cassandra, helping her to grab onto the phone cord and slowly pull herself upright as the sudden waves of nausea passed. Everything would be okay. He was coming. He would make it all go away.
Cassandra cautiously stepped out of the phone booth. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, making her already wavy hair frizz at the ends. She noticed a distinctly male figure briskly make its way from the sidewalk and onto the grass, the far away streetlight casting him in shadow.
An irrational fear trickled through Cassandra's mind, making her think that it was her father, coming to punish her for her disobedience. She turned to run away, but slipped on the grass, landing on her knees, a fresh sweep of tears making her stomach clench and throat ache. When would it end?
Travis' concerned voice broke through the girl's misery, making her look up with renewed hope. "Cassandra! Come on, stand up — how long have you been out here?" He helped her to her feet, wrapping his worn jacket around her shoulders as she collapsed against his chest.
"Oh Travis... I'm so glad it's you! I thought you were m-my dad..." Cassandra mumbled, sobbing in relief.
Travis stroked her hair, telling her over and over that she was safe now, and that he'd make sure nothing bad would ever happen again.
And from that night on, Travis was the anchor in Cassandra's stormy home life. But he was right: as long as he was around, she'd be alright.