Disclaimer: Insert witty way to disclaim ownership of Darkest Powers, which is the property of Kelley Armstrong. Who I clearly am not.
A/N: Hey! Thanks to everybody who reviewed! I replied to the ones I could (which was all but two or three I believe) saying thanks already, but I wanted to say it again. The reviews gave me the guts to keep going, and I like to give credit where its due. :)
For those of you who don't know this story: Underdog was originally intended as a oneshot. I wrote it out of boredom and loved it, so when I posted, I said I might continue, if I got an idea or some inspiration. When a lot of reviewers said I should continue, and I couldn't get the characters out of my head, I decided I had to. Besides, it was just so much fun to begin with. :)
It actually took me a while to figure out how to continue. I don't believe in a story without conflict, and it looked like the conflict between Chloe and Derek was pretty much resolved. I left a few strands open-ended, just in case I did come back to it, but most of them would take several chapters to really flesh out, and I unfortunately don't have the time for it. Between my original stories, my new job (which I started this week), and studying for my exams, I only have so much extra time to devote to fanfiction. So it had to be short, one or two extra chapters at the most.
I went with the most immediate question that I knew I could tackle within two chapters: Simon. What would he have to say about Derek and Chloe acting a little... off? And how would Derek and Chloe act to begin with? This was my best guess, and I wrote it mostly the night before my first day of work, lol.
Point is, this can be read as the original oneshot (the first chapter only) or the larger three-shot. I hope you enjoy it either way.
As always: enjoy or destroy! - Chrissa
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Underdog
by Bewitching
Chapter Two
---
Andrew was storming through the back door just as we came in the front, and thanks to the floor plan of the house, he couldn't see us. I looked at Derek, pointed to the stairs, and he nodded. We were halfway up the creaking steps when Andrew finally caught us.
"Where have you two been?" he said, the voice banging up and down the stairwell like a church bell. We turned to face him, my cheeks going instantly red. This was why I didn't want to be an actress. This was why I had to be behind the camera, directing the lie, not actually playing it out--
"Basement," Derek said easily. "Looking around."
"Do you really expect me to believe that?" It was the same look we got after falling out of the crawl space at Lyle House. Only this time, it was a lot closer to the truth.
Derek shrugged. "We needed something to do. We've been running for days--"
"But you haven't been running today. Why do you look so winded?"
My blush was so deep I felt like the blood made my brain slosh around in my skull. Derek glanced at me, his expression grim. He turned back to Andrew, and I was sure he was going to fess up, of course he would, but how much would he tell? Oh my god, that was not a story I wanted an almost-total-stranger to hear.
"Chloe-- She saw a ghost when we were downstairs. She freaked out, ran up the stairs."
Jesus, Derek, could you give a girl a warning?
"Is that true, Chloe?" Andrew asked. I twitched at being addressed, but that was my cue.
"Y-yeah," I said, staring holes into my shoes. Well, good-bye Hollywood.
Andrew was quiet, watching us, and I almost spilled the beans under his x-ray gaze. He didn't buy it, but there was a touch of relief in his deep breaths, and he felt a lot less like a stranger to me. He kinda reminded me of Dad.
"Stay upstairs," he said, and turned back into the kitchen. Yeah. That was almost exactly like Dad.
My breath flew out of my lungs as if someone had stomped on them, and Derek snorted. "You're a horrible liar," he muttered, heading back up the steps. My legs wobbled as I followed up and into the hall.
"You're a natural for someone who's usually so blunt," I retorted. He snickered again. He had opened his mouth to say something when the bathroom door burst open, a growl of frustration coming from Tori, her hair in a towel turban on top of her head. The towel looked old, and her clothes were still dirty, but the grime was off of her face, at least.
Her eyes flashed on mine as we stared at her. "You used up all the hot water," she said. "Thanks a lot."
"Technically," I said, irritated and edgy already, "there was no hot water when I got in the shower."
"My fault," Derek said, without the least bit of regret. Tori held a finger to his face, about to yell or sneer or whatever an angry, cold Tori might do, but he raised his eyebrows. What are you going to do about it?
She wilted, slowly, her arm falling back to her side. I thought she was going to back down, but her mouth twisted into a smile. "Don't do it again," she said, almost pleasantly.
I picked up on the threat almost as fast as he did, my "Quit it, Tori," muffled by Derek's "What's stopping me?"
Her eyes angled to the bathroom and back again. "There's a nice view of the backyard from the bathroom window, and the forest... I think I saw a dog running around out there." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Maybe a defenseless rabbit, too. Andrew might want to hear about that."
The stare-down was enough to have my last bit of patience fly away. I snatched Derek's sleeve, "C'mon. You're in Her Royal Highness's way."
Tori was humming to herself as she ducked around me and descended the staircase.
"Shoulda left her," Derek grumbled, staring over his shoulder at her retreating form.
"Let it go."
"Let's let her go. The Edison Group can have her."
"Stop it."
He glanced at me from under his lank bangs, frustration obvious and the first thread of an argument on his lips. He chewed it instead, shoved his hands in his pockets and muttering something akin to, "fine."
"Thank you," I said, and we picked up our walk down the hall. "You're being so mature about this. I think you're growing, Derek."
"Clever," he rumbled, grabbing one of the many door knobs and ducking inside what I assumed was his room.
I paused just beyond the door, half-wondering if I should follow, when Simon bounded up the stairs. "Chloe!" he stage-whispered. "Where's Derek? Andrew said he banished you both up here. Where were you?"
I flushed again, this time at the look on his face. Conspiratorial, smirky... and definitely flirty.
It's funny how kissing a boy can make flirting so much more obvious. And uncomfortable.
I didn't know what to say, what Derek would rather have me tell him, so I took the safest route even though my embarrassment was shining through like a lighthouse in a fog. "H-he invited me along, so I--" I fumbled through a quick explanation of scoping out the edge of the woods, stuttering and stumbling through it almost as much as I had when I'd been out in that underbrush.
He frowned, the bridge of his nose crinkled as he looked at me. "Something wrong?"
"No! I mean, well, yeah, Andrew looked pretty ticked off--"
"He won't stay mad for long. Something's up. Did you find anything out there?"
"Nothing interesting," I said, while a voice in the back of my head, clearly betting on my demise, said, Only your brother's lips.
"Are you sure?" His hand flexed, as if to reach for mine.
A huge piece of me wanted to tell Simon what had happened, friend to friend. I couldn't tell Tori, and Liz was nowhere to be seen, but Simon and I... Was that too presumptuous? To think Simon and I were headed somewhere beyond just friends?
Then again, wasn't it presumptuous to think Derek and I were headed that way? It was only a kiss.
Two kisses, I corrected, almost smug.
But did they mean anything?
Simon was waiting for an answer. "Yeah, I'm sure," I said, and his frown lessened somewhat. Trouble was, I wasn't sure about anything just now.
"So where's Derek?" he asked, upbeat again. He seemed restless too, and part of me wondered why he wasn't on the verge of sneaking out himself.
"Here," said the guy in question, joining us in the hall. He wore a different shirt, probably to let the other air out. I caught myself looking and turned my eyes to his, but he was watching Simon, his expression completely guarded. Guarded from me or from Simon, I had no idea, but I instantly regretted saying anything. Was I supposed to tell him?
"Better?" Simon asked.
"Yeah. How'd you lose him?"
Simon rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall in exasperation. "Tori, what else? She threw a tantrum about the lack of 'decent entertainment', and came up here to shower, I guess. After that Andrew and I were talking about what happened when the Edisons made a surprise visit at his place, until he noticed he hadn't seen either of you in almost an hour. He called and you didn't answer, so he figured you guys took off... Which you had. Gotta give him some credit." He smiled, enjoying the normality of something as juvenile as sneaking out.
"He's not an idiot," Derek agreed, though not as amused. He rolled his shoulders, almost elbowing a hole in the wall. "I don't know how long I can take house arrest."
"Why don't you just explain it to him?" I said, watching him squirm, tiny movements of unrest. "You need to be sure we're safe--"
"Not a good idea," he said. He kept his eyes on the wall across from him, just above Simon's head.
"Why not?"
Simon saved Derek from explaining. "Last time Andrew saw Derek, things were..."
"Different?"
"Vastly," Simon said, chuckling as his brother gave him a look of disdain. I let a small smile cross my face.
"But what's that got to do with anything?"
"I'm dangerous," Derek muttered. Then he looked at me, something passing over his features so fast that I felt like I had whiplash. I stared back at him, confused, and then his eyes were back on the wall again.
Simon paused, catching all this. But then he plowed on, "You're not dangerous. I can vouch for that. And so can Chloe. We'll back you up."
"Definitely," I agreed.
"You won't have to. I'm not bringing up anything." Derek was already escaping into his room, but this time Simon followed, snatching my hand and dragging me in with him. I was sitting on Simon's bed before I could think, and Derek was standing with the backs of his knees against his, about five feet away. He gave me another one of those looks, and the confusion in my head only strengthened.
Simon was still holding my hand, and it felt all wrong. I slipped out of his grasp, and he went on, brushing it off.
"You can't keep sneaking off," he pointed out to Derek. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, grinning. "There's only so many ways I can distract Andrew without tying him up and throwing him in a closet."
"And Tori knows," I added as Derek flopped onto his mattress, the old frame whining in protest. He groaned at that, his hands massaging his eyes.
"She does?" Simon asked.
"Yeah, she saw us from the bathroom window." I explained the situation, and Simon huffed as he too threw himself onto his bed. "I doubt she'll keep that quiet in exchange for first dibs on hot water."
"Shoulda left her," Derek repeated, this time in an I-told-you-so ingrained in the words.
"You're too hard on her," I countered. Derek shrugged.
"Point is," Simon said loudly, claiming our attention, "you can maybe get away with it one more time. Twice, if you get in before he notices you're gone. But after that, Andrew's going to get ticked, lock you up and watch you like a hawk."
I couldn't help the snort that escaped. The image was just too good. The big bad wolf, tied up and glaring in annoyance at the well-meaning disciplinarian hawk. Derek reached behind his head, grabbed a pillow, and chucked it in my direction. It swiped me from above, messing my hair and turning the snort into a full-out laugh. His mouth twitched, an almost-smile, and I got ready to aim--
"What is up with you two?" Simon said. We looked at him, and his face was the picture of confusion, like he'd just seen a dog and a cat playing checkers.
Derek focused on the ceiling, and I shrugged, tossing the pillow behind him instead of lobbing it at his face. "Just trying to lighten the mood."
Simon made a humming noise in the back of his throat, and I felt the blush rise in my cheeks.
Derek broke the silence, clearing his throat. "I'll sneak out at night," he said, ending the discussion.
We sat there in silence for a century before I rolled my eyes. "This is so stupid. We're supposed to be safe, so why do I feel like I'm back in the lab?"
"We're all paranoid," Simon said.
"But we're in the clear for now, right? If they had followed us from Andrew's, why didn't they just ambush us when we were sleeping?"
"Maybe it's a siege. You know, when the bad guys block everything getting in and out of a town, so the people have to surrender?"
"They shot Chloe," Derek said, ignoring me when I complained. "I don't think they're going for a psychological attack."
"Well, Andrew is on our side, isn't he? Wouldn't it be better to keep him in the loop?" Plus, I felt like crap lying to a guy who was just trying to keep us safe.
"Did you see the looks he's been giving me?" Derek sat up now, his eyes focused on mine again, asking me to understand. "He doesn't know what I can do, and it scares him."
"He doesn't know what any of us can do."
He snorted. "I think I'm the most obvious threat, Chloe."
"You're not a threat--"
"Okay, something is going on." Simon was back up, too, and the idea that they were so in sync distracted me as he went on. "First you're moody, then you're laughing, and then you're arguing. Is there something you're not telling me?"
"I-I--"
"Leave her alone, Simon," Derek mumbled, still avoiding making eye contact.
"And now you're defending her?" Simon wasn't angry, just extremely confused. I didn't blame him, but that didn't mean I was going to just blurt out the truth. Yes Simon! We are hiding something! I kissed your brother! He kissed me back, and it was a very good kiss, if I'm any judge, and I wouldn't mind doing it again in the very near future, if only I knew you wouldn't hate us because of it.
Cue the dramatic soap opera music. My inner critic nearly vomited.
The door opened: Andrew, his face less angry but still grumpy enough to audition for one of the Seven Dwarves, leaned into the room. "Good. The gang's all here." He was aiming for friendly, but his agitation seeped into the room like he was a leaking septic tank. "Come downstairs. If we're going to be staying here for awhile, we should clean this place up." And then he was gone.
"Ooh, house cleaning," Simon said. Then he looked at Derek. "Aren't you going to sing or something? Get the furry little animals to come help you dust?"
He rolled his eyes. "Shut up." This time, when he threw the pillow, he aimed right for the face.
I ducked out of the room to avoid the bombardment of pillows, muttering to myself about boys.
I sighed. Boys were definitely a problem right now.
---
That night, after about four hours of sleep, I woke up again. It was instantaneous, my eyes popping open, adjusting to the dark and seeing Tori's cocooned form beneath the covers of her bed. After a minute, my eyes started tearing and I had to blink.
Why, after so many days of not sleeping, was it so hard for me to be comfortable in a bed?
Maybe because your aunt is sleeping in a cell, or a padded room. Maybe because she might never wake up.
I was just about to throw the covers off when I heard the creaking footsteps from down the hall. Clearly not a ghost, but definitely somebody. They were too heavy to be Simon, so it was either Derek or Andrew.
To be honest, I didn't want to run into either of them.
All through the living room's scrubbing -- which I guessed was the only punishment Andrew could come up with that could be justified as necessary work -- Derek ignored me. If I came to his side of the room, he moved to the other. If Simon came near, he left us alone. If Andrew gave us something to do together, he wouldn't say a word.
I'm dangerous, he said. It was so cliché, the old it's-not-you-it's-me thing. I wanted to slap him, but that was even more cliché, so I settled on following his example: the silent treatment. Two can play at that.
Well, two can play, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy the game. The cold shoulder had frozen most of the other thoughts in my mind, forcing me to focus on the absence of him, the proximity of him, and even the mumbled attempts at conversation with Simon, which were all along the lines of, "So... what are you doing?" I was so busy trying to figure him out that instead of mopping the wood floor in the hall, I was mopping the carpet.
Honestly? It felt wrong, like going out in the snow without a parka. Kissing him was one surprising step forward, and the aftermath was ten gigantic strides back. Why were we shifting into reverse anyway?
Simon chose to ignore it, probably because it was closer to his normal, and spent most of the time talking to me. About movies, which ones I liked best and which ones I wanted to see. We talked about the comic he was working on, and while all this was nice, it was just a distraction.
It made sense now. I didn't want a distraction. I wanted to spring Aunt Lauren and Rae. I wanted to find Simon and Derek's dad. I wanted to be able to go outside without worrying about bullets and tranquilizers. I wanted to breathe easy because I could, not because I was being talked into it.
Simon was great, and fun to talk to, but at the moment it felt like static on a radio, keeping me from tuning into what I really wanted to hear.
I snorted. I cleaned a living room when I should've been gathering a zombie army and storming Edison Group's headquarters like the better version of the Wicked Witch of the West. Crawl, my zombie minions! Crawl, crawl!
I sighed. My head seriously hurt.
The footsteps stopped outside my door, and I pulled my head out from under the blankets to listen. Soon enough, I heard it, a short tap-tap on the frame. I crawled out of bed and opened it to find Derek, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in odd directions like he'd spent the past few hours tossing and turning.
He gestured for the stairs, and I frowned. He pointed again, and I crossed my arms. He rolled his eyes and mouthed the word "please." I sighed.
But I followed him downstairs and to the living room, out the front door and onto the porch. He didn't stop until he was at the very edge of the deck, the one farthest away from the bedrooms.
"I can't sleep," he said, keeping his voice low. We were standing just within the shadow of the awnings, hidden from the bright moonlight, casting stark shadows on his face. His eyes disappeared in the dark, and his cheeks looked hollow, reminding me of the skeleton that had been in my face just days before. I hid the shiver that crawled up my back from the memory.
"So you woke me up?"
"You weren't sleeping either," he said, raising an eyebrow, daring me to deny it. I shrugged.
"I got some sleep."
"Not enough."
"Never enough."
He raked his hand through his hair with a sigh, and I knew what was going to happen, but that didn't stop something from flaring in the pit of my stomach, making me tense. "Chloe, I--"
"Just get it over with," I sighed, leaning against the railing and wrapping my arms around myself. It wasn't too cold, but enough to pierce through my pajamas and make me shiver.
"Get what over with?"
"Your speech. Something along the lines of, 'Chloe, I made a big mistake and I never should have kissed you because Simon is better for you, and I'm too 'dangerous'"-- I made air quotes with my fingers --"and I find you frustrating to begin with.'"
He blinked, opened and closed his mouth, then looked out into the woods. I followed his gaze, unintentionally looking for markers, but it was dark and I didn't have werewolf super-senses. Nothing looked familiar.
"So we agree," he said, facing me again.
"Huh?"
"It was a mistake."
"Only if you actually find me that frustrating," I said. Insomnia was making me a little braver, probably the only good side-effect.
"No," he said. I stared at him. "Okay, yeah, you are frustrating, but not like--" He sighed, and focused on the woods again.
"Not like what?"
He turned back looking agitated. "Not like that, okay? Not that way." Then kept his eyes on mine, and despite myself, I felt that flaring disappear, my stomach and nerves starting to settle. Then he switched back and it started all over again. "Look, I'm not good at this stuff. It's Simon's department."
"Lots of things seem to be his department," I remarked. You can learn defense from Simon, Chloe. Go sit with Simon, Chloe. Run away with Simon, Chloe. You know he likes you, Chloe.
"Exactly. So--"
He could try and talk me into whatever he wanted, but that wouldn't work unless I understood why. "Do you like pushing me away, is that it?" I asked. "Or is this your way of trying to tell me something?"
"What are you talking about?"
I huffed, taking a few steps forward so I could actually see his face in the dim light. I drew on my last bits of sleepless courage to say it out loud. "I kissed you, okay? Because I wanted to. I wasn't looking for anything, and I wasn't just trying to make you, I don't know, feel better. I did it because I wanted to. I wanted to kiss you."
He didn't move. For a split second, he was replaced with a statue. "What's your point?" he grumbled, quieter.
"If I liked Simon, I'd go kiss him," I said, matching his volume... Then getting irritated. "It's not like I haven't had the opportunity, with you shoving us together every five seconds--"
"He's better for you."
I paused. That didn't seem to fit his expression, and I narrowed my eyes. "Let me take a page from your book. Is this about me, him, or you?"
He didn't answer, and my annoyance that he had an answer couldn't have been clearer in broad daylight. I squashed down the little voice that kept commenting on his eyes, the only thing giving him away. He was hiding something.
"Let's go through the scenarios," I said. "If this is about me, you're being stupid, because you can't force me into liking your brother anymore than I already do. And that's..." I sighed, having come to the conclusion already, but not wanting to announce it to the world. "That's just as friends."
He didn't say anything, just watched me, and I felt my nerves being replaced in small doses by optimism.
"If this is about him, I understand it a little better. He's your best friend." He grunted in acknowledgement. "But it's only going to hurt him more when he figures it out. And he will figure it out, even if I have to tell him myself. You don't give him enough credit.
"But if this is about you..." I shrugged. "I don't understand at all. Did I do something repulsive? Do you just not..."
Do you just not like me that way? It's what I wanted to say, but there was the little flame of rejection again, making camp in the back of my throat. I blinked it away, trying to focus, but there it was, right to the front of my attention. It roared through all my doubt and inexperience like sparks on a dry day, running me over like a semi.
Not even twenty-four hours after kissing a boy, I was, in essence, being dumped. Good going, Chloe. Very smooth. As if you don't have enough problems. The rejection was a lot worse than I'd guessed.
"It's not like that, you didn't do anything--"
"So what's the problem?" I asked, then cleared the wobbly quality out of my voice. Even as I knew what he was doing, I wanted to try, or at least find a good reason to stop. "Did Simon, like, call dibs or something? I'm not his property, I'm my own person. I can think for myself."
"I know," he sighed, fidgeting under my gaze.
"Then why are you going all dramatic and cryptic on me? Be blunt. Do you like me that way? Yes or n-mmph."
He was kissing me again, and my head went fuzzy. It was soft, slow, like he couldn't figure out a way to say everything on his mind. For anyone else that might be normal, but for Derek, it was the screenwriter hitting writer's block, a dead stop, and it was driving him crazy being unable to fix it. I didn't get any insight into his head, but I understood his frustration, and that combined with the feel of his lips was enough to make me kiss him back, matching him in my hesitance.
Why does he have to be so freaking tall? I brushed the voice away, even though I agreed, and tentatively wrapped my arms around his neck for support, standing on my toes to reach. He leaned down further, his hands cupping my face, and I had to fight with myself to keep from smiling. The forest fire in my gut was reduced to cinders, and a new one sprung up in my chest, making it hard to breath, hard to think, and it was even harder to focus on. I had no idea what it meant, only that it was a different and undeniably better kind of warmth.
Eventually I cracked, grinning, and he slanted his mouth to meet mine again, almost smiling himself.
After a moment, I needed to breath. I fell back onto my feet, but he didn't back away. We stood there, breathing, hands still locked in place and foreheads almost touching. His thumb rubbed a slow path on my cheekbone, and I opened my eyes, hoping he knew what was going on. I still wasn't sure.
But he wasn't looking at me, his eyes were still closed, and the small grin was replaced with an equally small scowl. He was no doubt cursing himself out for doing that again, when that clearly hadn't been his plan.
My racing heart sounded like it was applauding his impulse, even though I wanted answers. "Derek?" It was the only question I could form.
He opened his eyes and I still wasn't sure what I saw, other than regret and determination. He was already stepping away from me, and I was no match for his intention.
"Sorry," he said, like it was for both of us instead of just me.
"Stupid thing to apologize for." Or was I imagining things?
The words seemed to spill out of his mouth like he was an actor who hated his role, just throwing out the script. "There's more important things to think about--"
"There is," I agreed, hoping to coax the explanation out of him. "So let's stop arguing about it, okay? Just tell me what's going on." I touched his arm, only to be shrugged away, his frustration getting the best of him.
"We can't do this," he said, a low growl at himself as he slid against the old house's siding.
This was different, not an impatient habit, but a guilt-ridden and confused thought process. It was watered down, locked away, like nearly everything about him, but to see him actually showing the stress... He kept his eyes on the ground, his palms to his temples, but would look out at the forest every second or so. Like we were being watched.
I didn't know what to do. I just stood there, the taste of him fresh on my lips, the chill on my skin that his warm hands left behind. I wasn't imagining things. There was something there, and his manner confirmed it, but why the denial? Was I not good enough? Did he want to save Simon the hurt? Was the timing bad?
Everything was building up in my head, fueling that flame of rejection, creating steam beneath my vocal cords. I was blurting it out before I could even process it. "Why are you doing this?" I said, my voice rising in frustration. "Why can't you make up your mind? You're driving me crazy."
"I can make up my mind," he said, the rueful edge speaking for itself.
"You told me it was a mistake, and then you did it again. Where's the sense in that?" I threw up my hands. "Maybe we are crazy. We want what we want when we want it, but guess what, I'm not going to play that game with you. Not today, not ever."
His head flew up and his jaw clenched. "I'm not playing games, I just--" He stopped, inhaling deeply, as if his lungs decided to take over for him.
"Listen, if you want me to take the blame for earlier, I will. I started it, and I don't regret it. But just now, you kissed me." Derek was staring across the porch behind me, disbelieving. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, fuming. "Hello? Did you even hear me?"
"I did," said the smooth and quiet voice of Simon Bae.
---
A/N: Ooh, is that something of a cliffhanger? Lol. The conversation between Chloe and Derek was originally staged in the forest again, but it felt repetitive and didn't fit into my eventual idea. So I changed it to the porch, and it actually feels better to me, more private, even though they get walked in on, lol.
I tried as best I could to keep the flow of the original story, while still adding the newer elements. If you feel like reviewing (which you should! I give out cyber cookies!) then you maybe sorta could let me know if the pace was alright? I thrive on constructive criticism, lol.
Anyway, thanks for reading! The last chapter should be up by tomorrow afternoon, and then this is officially done. :) - Chrissa