Bridge

Chapter 2: From Either Side

Take our hands out of control - Gold Lion, Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Miami International Airport was only slightly less than confusing. Casey had managed, merely through following the crowd, to navigate her way from the plane to baggage claims. Finally out, she scanned the crowd through the dividing glass (and tried desperately to not think about all the possible significances of that) until she saw her father. She recognized her father for himself rather than because of the sign he was holding. If she had been depending on the sign, she probably would have walked straight past him. It read in simple, bold print, "CASSANDRA McDONALD".

Cassandra? She hadn't answered to that name since… well, since her parents had gotten divorced, to tell the truth. Her father had always been the only one to call her that - for some reason, he liked it more than Casey, Case, Cass or Cassie. She knew that this wasn't due to him being snooty like Vicky/Victoria, because she had asked him a long time ago why he never called her 'Casey' like Nora did. He'd replied with, "I like 'Cassandra'. It gives you scope." Casey still hadn't figured out what he meant yet.

Casey stopped and stared at her father. Benjamin McDonald looked much like he had when his daughter had last seen him some five years earlier. He was tall and thin - perhaps even wiry by some standards, much like Derek (no way was she going there, either) - with intelligent features heightened by the glasses perched on his nose. His hair was brown and, without needing to look, Casey knew his gray eyes were kind. Steeling herself for the unknown, she walked forward.

"Dad?"

He turned slowly and looked at her, his gaze making her suddenly wonder if her shirt was too wrinkled from the flight, if her hair was neat, did she have dirt on her face? What would her father think of her? She hadn't even realized that she would need to make an impression. After all, she couldn't let him get away with the idea that he'd left and Nora had let her run wild, now could she? She shifted slightly until he smiled slowly.

"I've missed you, Cassandra."

Her father's voice. God, she'd had no idea how much she missed it. Tearing up already, she threw herself into his arms. "I've missed you too, Daddy. I've really missed you."

"Damn it!"

This could not be happening. Where was it? Where was his goddamned DVD? For what felt like the four hundredth time, Derek went through every remotely disc-like item in his room. And, of course, it wasn't there.

"EDWIN!"

Maybe Edwin had been passing, but it was more probable that Edwin flew in response to his brother's tone to be at the door in such a short time. Completely out of breath, the younger Venturi gasped, "You called?"

Derek was ferocious. "Tell me you moved my yellow DVD."

What the-? Edwin frowned. Derek had really and truly finally lost it, hadn't he? What yellow DVD? "Um… no. You had a yellow DVD?"

"Of course! It was in a yellow case and clearly marked 'Demo 12: Casey'. Did you move it?"

At that particular moment, it occurred to Edwin that Derek looked much like he had before blowing a fuse at Casey before Fiona's wedding reception: Very near a total breakdown.

"Oh, that DVD." It was only instinctive self-preservation that stopped Edwin from smirking. The infamous Casey DVD. The one whose case Edwin wasn't even allowed to glance at. No wonder Derek was shedding. It allegedly contained a compilation of Casey's worst moments in the Venturi house but Edwin (and Lizzie) were quite aware that Derek would hardly be so guarded about it if it were in fact what he claimed it was. When accused of hiding something (again, this had been Lizzie because Edwin would simply have been pummeled to within an inch of his life), Derek had scoffed, saying he simply didn't want to share his vital blackmail material. Yeah, right. "Nope. Sorry, Derek, haven't touched it."

Derek collapsed backward onto his bed and Edwin winced. The hard edges of those videos had to hurt. Pulling his hand across his eyes, Derek ordered, "Get Lizzie and Marti."

Within minutes the girls were lined up beside the eldest Venturi's bed. Derek sat up and Lizzie glanced at Edwin candidly. Derek looked haggard and, above all, really worried. This was way more serious than either of them had anticipated.

"Ok girls, did either of you move a DVD in a yellow case from this room?" he asked in what they assumed was his calmest voice at that moment.

Lizzie quickly shook her head. She never entered Derek's room without his permission. Actually, the only time she ever considered it was when she wanted to really talk to Derek. And that in itself was a rare occurrence. Marti, however, bit her lip. Everyone present noticed.

"Smarti," Derek began, "did you move my DVD?"

The little one nodded slowly, sensing that she'd done something wrong. It was too early for Derek to be relieved but it was obvious he relaxed at the prospect of locating the all-important yellow DVD.

"And where did you put it?" he asked.

Marti smiled; for once she remembered this clearly. "In Casey's handbag!"

Derek was on his feet, his eyes wild. "WHAT?"

Marti backed up. Then, remembering that this was Smerek she was dealing with and gaining confidence from that, she protested, "Casey asked me for it, though!"

His entire face seemed to pale. Edwin and Lizzie shared a glance. Was it healthy to turn that gray?

"Casey… asked you for it?" he croaked.

Marti nodded her little face defiant. "Mm-hmm. She wanted the DVD of her school play. She said it was in a yellow case and it had 'Casey' written on it. I couldn't find it in her room so I looked around. I found it in here."

Derek stood rigidly, eyes closed. Finally, he turned to face them. He pressed his lips together then herded them toward his door. "Thank you, children. You've done enough. Especially you, Smarti. You've done more than enough. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a reply, he closed the door in their faces. "Well, shit."

"Tell me about your new family."

Casey looked up from her dinner, slightly startled by her father's abrupt speech. Apart from the pleasant din of the restaurant, the two hadn't really been speaking. The silence was comfortable and warm and it reminded Casey distinctly of life before Derek. Ah, Derek. You invade again.

"They're ok. George is nice if a little oblivious. He's a good dad, though. I don't know…" she sighed. Flustered by the awkwardness of having to describe her stepfather to her father (read: compare her stepfather to her father), she waved her fork around and proclaimed, "He's just George, you know?"

Ben chuckled lightly, sipping at his ginger ale. "Alright, we won't talk about George. What about your stepsiblings? I heard you have three."

Casey rolled her eyes. She wiped her mouth and sat back, done with her main course. This was what she came to Florida for. Might as well get it over with. With the image of Derek floating around her brain, she answered, "They're…different. They're not bad, actually. At least not Edwin and Marti. Edwin's just about a year older than Lizzie and a bit of a nerd. But he's a nice guy at heart. He can be a lot of fun when he's not with - … Anyway, Marti's adorable. She's her own person entirely though when I first met her I thought I was stuck in a family with a crackpot four-year-old. Now I know I'm stuck in a family with a crackpot six-year-old. But they're great kids, both of them."

"I'm glad you're happy."

"We are." And suddenly Casey felt immensely guilty for saying so. She'd been in Florida for two days and what was most stark about her father's life was his lack of family. She was sure he had friends but, in Casey's mind, it didn't compare to what she had at home. Her father's life was jarringly lonely and she was probably just making it worse. She reached out with shaky fingers and brought her glass to her lips. She looked away - at anything other than her father. Open mouth, insert foot indeed.

"Don't feel bad, Cassandra. I don't regret leaving your mother. You girls have a much better life than you would have had if we'd stayed together. For your sakes, I don't regret anything… much."

The sadness on his face was only barely perceptible but it was there. By the time he'd taken another drink, it was gone. He focused his eyes back on Casey and she felt nervous. Like that one time when she was younger and had been caught trying to bend the truth.

"So, would you like to tell me what you're not saying?"

She knew he meant Derek. She knew she'd been glaringly obvious about her avoidance. She supposed it wasn't that she didn't want to talk about Derek but, for some reason, she felt nervous bringing him up in her father's presence. It reminded her a little bit of when she'd had to tell Nora about Sam. Although she hadn't really had to say anything - Nora had just known. If she were honest with herself, she would have realized that she was feeling the way she'd always felt when telling her father (even via email) about a guy she liked. But Casey wasn't being honest with herself just yet.

"What I'm not saying?" she asked as flippantly as she could.

"What you're not talking about: Your third stepsibling, Cassandra." Casey had the distinct impression that she'd reverted to being eight, "Your mother warned me about this."

"Warned you about what?" Casey panicked, she had no idea why. What did her mother know? Wait, what was there to know?

"About your rivalry with him."

"Oh. That."

Ben's eyebrow rose. "Was there something else?"

George came home expecting to find the house loud and lively. What he actually found was a neat, clean and deserted place with only one troubled occupant. Derek sat at the kitchen counter brooding over a glass of milk. A glass of milk. Something was definitely wrong.

"Before I ask who died, please tell me Nora took the children out shopping."

Derek nodded, eyes never leaving the milk. "She said they'd probably be back around eight."

"Ah. You want to tell me what's wrong? Or are you going to sit there and stew in it all night long? Because Marti will start to worry if you look this serious for too long."

Derek groaned and dropped his face into the crook of his elbow. He muttered something unintelligible save for the words, "Casey", "idiot", "stupid", and what could possibly have been "DVD". George simply sat there. He had suspected from the moment he'd met Casey McDonald that he would face this problem once he married Nora. Apparently, the day of reckoning was upon them.

"Look, Derek, I want you to know that whatever it is, I won't judge you." That was about the extent to which George wanted to push. Because if he wasn't dealing with what he thought he was dealing with, he didn't intend to put ideas into anyone's head. "But I'm here if you need to talk."

With that, he sat and waited. Actually, he dug around in the fridge while Derek made up his mind about saying anything. Finally, when George sat down with a plate of goodness-knows-what in front of him, Derek spoke up.

"I did something stupid. It… It involves Casey."

George was inclined to ask what was new. He just kept chewing though, knowing that Derek telling him anything was rare enough. "Ok. So long as she isn't pregnant…"

Shit, he should not have said that.

To George's thinly suppressed horror, Derek didn't even protest. He looked away, cheeks the subtlest shade of pink, and mumbled, "Not that kind of stupid."

George cringed, swearing he heard an unvoiced 'unfortunately'.

Ignoring his father's silence, Derek continued hesitantly. "See… you know those home movies I make?"

George nodded, his mind numb and screaming, 'SEX TAPE! SEX TAPE!'

"Usually, I just record whatever's going on and then cut it on the computer. I've got DVDs full of footage of each member of the family. I've got one of you, one of Nora, two of Marti, one of Edwin and one of Lizzie and…"

"And…?" George prompted. None of Casey? He could see how that would be a problem if Casey ever found out. She'd be hurt and probably rather offended. George noticed that when it came to Derek, Casey was vain like that. Admittedly, however, if that were the problem, George would be able to sleep much more peacefully tonight.

Derek looked like he wanted to kick himself. "…And six of Casey."

George choked. So much for a good night's sleep. "Six?"

Wincing, Derek nodded and there was silence. Not the easy, can-be-borne silence of earlier but the say-something-now-or-explode sort. Eventually George stopped wiping his chin. "Six DVDs of Casey. Well son, that's… a lot."

Derek chuckled mirthlessly, "It's called stalking, Dad."

George blanched. He thought for a while then asked, "Derek, what does this mean?"

The Venturi patriarch watched his son think and come up with the scariest answer George had ever heard. "I don't know, Dad. I don't even know how it happened. One day I had a couple shots of Casey being her regular, clumsy Casey-self and the next… I've got six tapes of Casey studying, eating, sleeping, listening to music. And I don't even want to start to think about what it means."

Sighing, George stood and placed his plate in the sink. He kept his back turned, because he really couldn't find the strength to say this to his son's face just yet. "Nora and I have suspected for a while now… that you'd start to feel differently about Casey. We just didn't realize it had already happened."

"That's the thing, Dad. I haven't… I don't know how I feel about Casey."

George turned around. He looked at his son, really looked at him, and realized that he was dealing with a young man now, not a boy. But a young man who still needed his help.

"Well then," he said, "you've got one month to figure it out, Derek. If you need me, I'll be right here to talk."

Derek downed the rest of his milk in one gulp. He handed his father the glass across the counter and got up to leave. He stopped at the door to the dining room and looked over his shoulder. "Thanks, Dad. For listening." And understanding.

Derek took one more step and stopped. Without turning even slightly, he sighed and confessed, "She's just beautiful, you know?"

And then he was gone. George nodded to the space where Derek had been. He knew. He had always known. He had always known that Derek thought so, even before Derek knew it himself.

Author's Note: First of all, I like the name Casey, I just think that it's a bit more of a nickname than a real name. Since, again, there's been no canon mention of whether or not 'Casey' is her full name, I've taken the liberty of expanding it. And yes, it is possible to go through life using a name not actaully on your birth certificate. Secondly, I've always thought Derek would be quicker on the uptake than Casey. AndI don't think George and Nora are completely oblivious - just really complacent. I hope you enjoyed it. In the next chapter: Casey and her shrink Dad !

Thanks for reading and for the awesome, encouraging reviews.

DISCLAIMER: Life With Derek and all related materials belong to Disney and Shaftesbury Kids. No infringment is intended.