Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek, but I've sat down with the producers and tried to discuss why they should let me buy in... The restrainer order came in this morning... I'll be getting my lawyer on this though, so don't worry!

Can I help?

Breakdowns

She avoided being alone with Derek successfully, and almost avoided him all together, which was harder due to living conditions. Everyone had accepted the Derek-Casey fight story and said nothing else of her hand. Once again she was just Casey: Grade-grubber, Casey: Klutzilla, Casey: perfect. She continued studying, passing tests, passing classes, and organizing her room- the only place in her house possible of organizing. And again, slowly, the feeling came back.

The past couple days she had had moments of weirdness- the only way anybody who witnessed it could describe it. They were moments where her eyes would go distant and she wouldn't freak out when Nora and George mixed up whose turn it was to food shop or pick up the kids. Or moments when the slightest thing would make her flip out on everybody until she would leave the room in a huff and sit, staring at the tv, obviously not really seeing it.

George and Edwin would pass these things off as, "Eh… girl problems." Nora and Lizzie decided she was just over stressing herself and she'd be back to herself after a good rest. Only Derek was truly irked by her behaviour. He wouldn't show it, except maybe in his cutting down on picking fights with her, and everyone just thought that was due to the hand incident.

Then one night Casey sat in front of her broken mirror, brushing her hair and staring into it thinking: it's just like me… broken.

She had been thinking thoughts like that randomly lately. She could feel it coming upon her, but she still wasn't ready for it. This time it started with tears, not just ended with them. She began to cry, calmly first, just letting them stream down her face. Then the sobs started, quietly of course. Always quietly. She buried her head in her forearms and pulled her hair. Her body shook first with sobs, then with that primal feeling, and for the first time during a breakdown she left her room.

Derek's door swung open and he sat up groggily. "Wha…"

"I hate you, Derek," Casey cried, her voice quavering. She was hitting him in the chest, the arms, and the stomach before he could even register that she was there. He grabbed her wrists and she thrashed violently against him, her hair flying.

"Casey!" His voice seemed as loud as a yell, but he had barely even spoken. She stopped fighting him and just stood there, shaking, tears dripping off her cheeks, and panting. Her lips parted with a whimper and she fell to her knees at the side of his bed, rocking back and forth. He quickly climbed out of bed and knelt next to her to see her yanking at her hair and scratching at her skin. He pulled her hands away from her body with this frantic feeling of urgency, as if she might claw through her body if he didn't stop her right away.

Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into his arms roughly and rocked her, murmuring softly into her hair. He felt her little body quaking in his arms. He had never thought of her as delicate. Now he was terrified that he would crush her if he held her too tight, but even more afraid that if he didn't hold her tight enough she'd fall away into an endless abyss forever.

He had never felt the fear that he felt that night. That was the fear he saw in her eyes that night, he realized.

Derek pulled away just enough to look into her face. She was a mess. Her hair stuck to her face where the tears had flooded her skin, her eyes were bloodshot with dark circles around them and she was too pale. He took that face in his hands and said, "Is this what happened to your hand?" What he had meant was, "Can I help?"

She heard his question.

She nodded slowly and clung to him, burying her face now in his chest instead of her own arms and shook in his arms instead of alone. She could feel herself calming down. Maybe she could be okay.

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a/n: I just want to thank my reviewers again, I love hearing everything from you guys. Thank you! And of course, virtual cookies (not the ones stored in your computers... I'm not spying on you, I swear) to you all :-D

Remember, constructive critism is always welcomed, but flame givers beware! Flames will be used to cook that lovely goldfish of yours... Mmm, fish. :-)