Author's Note (12/16/05): Sorry this has taken me so long to update. I've been quite busy as a freshman in college, and really haven't had the time. Anyway, I'm going to try and keep my interest, as long as other people seem interested. So if you like, review often! I promise to keep you happy. On to the second chapter!

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Her eyes flashed open when her throat felt the slickness of water sliding down it. She spluttered in protest, and felt the water slipping down the wrong tube, causing her to choke. The strong arms that had been cradling her head gently sat her upward.

"Dad?" Casey managed to ask between coughs. Her vision was blotted with black spots, but she could tell that the man who held her wasn't her father.

Jack. He was balanced on the balls of his feet, supporting her back with one firm hand and his knee. His eyes were heavy with concern, but his face held the impassive expression of a doctor probing his patient.

"How long has this been going on?" He turned his hazel eyes from his sister to his mother. Casey's eyes swept up to her as well. Their mother hovered above them - her wrinkled hand flat against her lips. Her eyes, blue and so unlike her children's, flitted from one progeny to the next.

"Months now, the doctors guess. But they said it could have been going on years before. It's just gotten so extreme. Oh, Jackie. I should have known, shouldn't I have? I should have picked up on the symptoms," Mrs. Shepherd's words poured out of her unrestrained. Tears began to trickle down her face, falling into the hollow of her breast.

"Months? God. When did you know? Why didn't you tell me?"

"A few weeks ago. She blacked out at track practice. You were so busy, Jackie. I didn't realize how bad it was."

"Jesus, Mom. This is a mess. Look at her! What are they doing for her? Why isn't she in a hospital?" Jack's voice rose in volume as he spoke. His mother shrank back, while in his arms Casey shook with indignation and effort. She forced herself up onto her arms, refusing Jack's support. She looked deep into herself, and sucked strength from her marrow, and turned to face him.

"Don't you dare talk about me like I'm not here! Don't you dare! You aren't my father! You don't have that right!"

- - -

She leaned her head against the seat, and closed her eyes. The sun tickled her exposed skin with its warmth. All around her she could hear the shouts, the cries. She could feel sand in her Vans slip-ons. Sand stuck on her shins. A soft breeze tossed her blonde bangs across her forehead.

She opened her eyes again, and finally took in the scene of chaos that lay before her. A mid-section of the plane that they had been riding was rolled on its side, a gaping and angry mouth. Most seats had been tossed from the wreckage, like hers, and she could see people in various states of injury crawling from the flames. Corpses were splayed about the beach. The living were struggling amongst the dead.

It was a man with tawny hair who first caught her attention. He was swaggering around the debris, picking up objects that interested him and shoving them in a duffel bag. No one seemed to notice him. The other survivors were more concerned with getting to safety. It wasn't until he reached for a pink backpack that Casey got the nerve to unbuckle herself and leap out of the seat.

"Hey! That's mine, you hear! You get away from that!" The words traveled faster than her legs could carry her, but her body wasn't too far behind. Her calf muscles pumped fiercely as the man hesitated. Her fluid sprinter's movements allowed her to snatch the bag from his grasp before he could react.

"Watch yourself, Speedy." His level blue gaze met hers, and they locked together.

"Watch yourself, cowboy. Don't touch my stuff." Casey held her head high as he walked towards her. Sure, he stood a few feet taller than her, but she was sure she could outpace him if she needed to. He didn't give her reason to, though. Rather than reach for the backpack, he flashed a charming grin, and gestured as though he was tipping his hat to her.

"You got guts, Speedy. I'll give you that. But don't think I'll give you the next bit of baggage you decide you want from me." With that he turned and sauntered off to pick among the rubble.