Ohhhh my gosh. I could rattle off all the excuses I have for this being so incredibly late, but I'll spare you guys. Let me just suffice with I'm super sorry and I'll try not to let it happen again. Also, I would just like to note that I had this finished the other day, but then FF decided to be a jerk and break. Apparently the fanfiction gods are angry at me.
I understand its been incredibly long so you might not even remember what this story is about. I'll give a really really brief recap, but honestly, the previous four chapters arent all that long and I dont think it would be terribly hard to go back and re-read, or at least skim. But I'm a nice author so here's a quick refresher:
Derek and Casey are about twenty years old, attending the same college, and sharing an apartment at the request of their parents. They aren't quite as antagonistic towards each other as they once were, but they are not the best of friends either. Mostly they just leave one another alone. One day, Derek returns home from work to find Casey lying on her bed, obviously distraught. Being the somewhat nice guy he is now, he gets her to tell him what's wrong. Casey, somewhat reluctantly at first, regales him with the tale of her secret relationship with Paul the guidance counselor, and the breakup that is the cause of her current state. Last chapter ended with the two falling asleep on the couch while watching television, having decided to take a break from the story telling after Casey got to the part where her and Paul first slept together. Derek woke up in the wee hours of the morning and carried Casey back to bed, before collapsing in his own bed.
Dont own it. Obv.
Derek awoke to the harsh glare of morning sunlight and the acrid smell of burning bacon. Blinking away the haze of sleep, he realized that smell was Not Good and needed to be Dealt With Immediately. He rolled over and out of bed, his feet catching the ground beneath him just before he could tumble to the floor. He was still in his clothes from yesterday, he noticed as he stumbled into the hallway. Oh well.
Upon reaching the kitchen, all he could see was thick, oily smoke billowing from the pan atop the stove. He heard small snurffly noises and realized Casey must be around here somewhere, but before he could do anything about it, the smoke detector began to go off, the shrill beeping echoing horridly throughout the apartment.
"Shit," Derek muttered to himself, looking around for something to fan the smoke with. Failing to immediately spot anything of use, he whipped off his rumpled shirt and began to use that. After about a minute, he realized he was getting nowhere as long as the bacon was still sitting on the stove burning. Throwing the shirt over the back of one of the chairs at the tiny kitchen table, he vaulted over the breakfast bar and into the kitchen, where he almost stepped on his step-sister, who was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and sobbing pitifully. He faltered for a moment, instinctually wanting to comfort her (don't laugh, he was human after all), but realizing he couldn't just yet. Carefully stepping around her, he reached over to the stove and turned off the flame, and pressed the button on the microwave that turned on the fan.
All those years of George attempting to cook had made him a pro at such situations.
With the root of the problem addressed, he returned to the living room and resumed fanning the smoke detector with his shirt. Very shortly it ceased its shrieking, and then Derek promptly dropped his shirt and headed into the kitchen to address the other problem: the burnt bacon. Just kidding (kind of).
Casey really hadn't moved at all during this entire ordeal. She was still wearing his practice jersey, but had replaced the jeans with some impossibly tiny plaid shorts, barely peeking out from beneath the hem of his jersey. Her hair was pulled back in a low, loose pony tail but large pieces were falling out all over the place. Her nose was red and shiny and a little snotty (ew) and her blue eyes were shining even more brightly because of the tears. She looked incredibly unattractive and yet…she was still so pretty. He was momentarily baffled, and then shook his head like a small dog, to clear out such thoughts. He squatted down in front of her, and then leaned back on his heels until his back hit the cool oven door and he slid slowly down, letting his legs unfold next to her.
Rather than speaking, he just watched her quietly and waited for the crying to stop. And eventually it slowed and then ceased, and then after a few silent minutes of Casey staring at the floor and Derek staring at Casey, she finally spoke.
"It wouldn't be so bad, except for…"she began in a small voice, eyes still fixed on the floor. "Well," she looked up at him, "you remember how right before he kissed me for the first time, he told me his wife had just served him the divorce papers?"
Derek nodded slowly.
"Well," Casey said again, this time with a bitter laugh. "He neglected to tell me one minor detail…
"You're WHAT?!" Casey shrieked, the high-pitched noise echoing ominously off the Spartan walls of Paul's plain little apartment in Mississauga. The older man, who had been coiled around Casey's naked body in a loving, post-coitus embrace, was now standing awkwardly in the doorframe of the bathroom, a sheet clutched hastily around his waist. He ran a hand uneasily over his head, and she was briefly, bizarrely reminded of Derek and how he always did the same gesture when he found himself in an uncomfortable situation. As quickly as the thought had presented itself, however, it danced its way right back out of her head, and she was once again focused on her outrage at the man before her, the man she loved.
"Ah, Case, maybe we can talk about this a little later, when you aren't so…emotional," he suggested, trying to keep his tone gentle and soothing. No sooner had the words left his mouth then one of his loafers came flying towards him, hitting the wall to his right with an unsettlingly loud 'thump' and falling unceremoniously to the ground.
"I can emotional if I damn want, considering my boyfriend just told me that he's still married!" Casey screamed in reply, again lobbing a projectile at him—this time, a plastic cup that had been sitting on the bedside table. It, too, missed, though its impact with the wall left a small dent. Lucky for Paul, Casey may have had a strong arm, but she had terrible aim. "And don't call me Case," she added, this time in a low growl as she hopped into her jeans. She tripped a little, and almost fell over before finally managing to get both legs through. It was a rather comical sight, and Paul would have laughed had the situation been slightly different. As it was, he simply pressed his mouth into a thin line, and watched as she continued to dress, muttering things under her breath furiously.
After a few painfully long minutes of this, she was finally dressed. She moved into the living room of the apartment, gathering her things and shoving them into her bag. Paul trailed after her, now standing in the doorframe to the bedroom, watching silently. He couldn't think of anything to say, and decided to just let her ride out her anger. It was better this way, he knew. Once she had calmed down, then they could talk rationally. He was still naked, but for the sheet, and absently wondered if he could at least pull some pants on, but truthfully he was afraid to turn his back on Casey for a minute, and so resigned himself to his present state of undress for a little while longer.
Once Casey was sure she had all of her things, she stopped dashing around furiously, and at last looked up at Paul. Her gaze was one of molten fury, but her eyes still swam with tears threatening to spill. She blinked hard once, twice, and then spoke. "Don't call me until you sign those fucking divorce papers," she told him simply, voice heavy with venom. He winced, both at her unusual use of foul language, and at the unspoken accusation. Closing his eyes, he swallowed slowly, and did not open them again until he heard the angry slam of the front door.
Casey pounded furiously down the stairs, until finally reaching the small parking lot. She ground to an abrupt halt, suddenly remembering that Paul had picked her up from Toronto after a conference he had been attending, and drove her down here with him. She had no way to get home. Cursing her stupidity, she kicked at a stray stone, watching it skittering across the pavement as she tried to figure out how to get back to school. The door to the building swung open, and Casey turned at the sound, half-hoping Paul had come after her. But it was just the old lady who lived on the second floor, and kept more cats than the lease agreement permitted. Casey sighed, realizing she was going to have to figure this one out herself, and set off for the two-mile walk to the bus stop.
"Why didn't you call and ask me to pick you up?" Derek interrupted suddenly. Casey leveled her gaze at him, simply staring for a moment before speaking. "Like you really would have driven all the way out to Mississauga at 11:30 on a Sunday morning, to pick my sorry butt up, without any real explanation," she deadpanned. Derek pursed his lips for a moment, considering this. "Hmm," he said. "Fair point. Sorry," he shrugged sheepishly. Casey just rolled her eyes.
After what seemed like days, but was in fact only a few hours, Casey had finally made it back to campus, tired and angry. She dragged herself up to the apartment, and quickly collapsed into her bed, not even bothering to finish the homework she had due for Monday.
Derek raised his eyebrows, astonished, and opened his mouth to make a smart remark. But Casey glared menacingly at him, and he snapped his mouth closed without uttering a single syllable.
A few days passed, and Casey was miserable, but managed to muddle through and still appear halfway normal. Finally, on Wednesday, Paul called her. He insisted that he didn't want to talk on the phone, that he wanted to see her, and finally they agreed to meet for coffee on Saturday, at their usual little coffee shop. With an end to her misery in sight, Casey perked up considerably, and the next two days passed without event.
Finally, it was Saturday. She woke up early, and spent an embarrassing amount of time fussing over what to wear. She didn't want to seem like she was trying too hard, but she also wanted to make sure she looked good, to make sure Paul knew exactly how worth it she was. Eventually she settled on some nice jeans, and a soft blue sweater that she knew complemented her eyes wonderfully. She got to the coffee shop a full ten minutes early, but Paul arrived shortly after. As he made his way towards their table, she smiled softly at him, incredibly happy to see him again. She knew, without a doubt, that she loved this man. Though they hadn't spent much time discussing it, she had already started planning their future together. It would be a hard pill for their friends and family to swallow at first, but Casey was sure that everything would work out. They were meant to be together.
When he reached the table, she stood up to greet him, giving him a quick but emotional hug, and kissing him powerfully. She was so happy he had decided to come back to her. As they took their seats, she reached across the table and he grasped her hand, the old familiar gesture as comforting as ever.
"So," she began excitedly, "got those papers signed?" She smiled at him happily, the rest of the world an unimportant blur around them.
"Actually," he said, and her smile faltered a little. "I haven't. And I don't really have plans to do so any time soon," he told her, with only the slightest trace of apology in the words. Casey's jaw dropped, and she stared at him, confused and upset. What was he saying? She didn't understand. Slowly, Paul untangled his hand from hers, and brought it back to his lap. "Casey…I just, I can't do it yet," he said carefully, trying to explain it in a way that she would understand. It was a hard thing to comprehend if you had never been married. "I love you, Casey, I do, but I still love Michelle too. And we have a family together, and it's not something I can let go of just yet. But we agreed when we separated to see other people, so we can still be together," he explained, the words rushing out of his mouth by the end.
"What?" was all Casey could ask, incredulous. "How—but—you can't be with me if you're still married to her!" she exclaimed, a little too loudly. Paul frowned, not liking the attention she was attracting.
"Sure I can Casey, haven't you been listening to anything I've been saying?" he asked, his tone slightly condescending.
Casey shook her head, angry. "No Paul. That's not fair. You can't have us both. You have to choose." She gave him a stony stare, but her lower lip quivered slightly. How could he be doing this?
"You're honestly asking me to choose?" Paul said, his tone clearly indicating that he though himself above such dilemmas.
"Yes," Casey said, trying to keep her voice firm. "I cannot in good conscious have a relationship with someone who is still legally married," she told him, proud that her voice only wavered slightly on the last word.
"But you have been, for the last year and a half!" he exclaimed, getting frustrated.
"I wasn't aware that I was!" Casey argued, a telling tear managing to escape down her cheek. She rubbed it away furiously, annoyed that it had leaked out.
"Casey if you can't handle this like an adult, then I don't know if we can be together," Paul threatened, crossing his arms across his chest. Casey leaned back in her seat, mimicking his actions.
"Her or me," was all she said. Time clicked by as they stared each other down in silence.
"Fine," Paul replied, finally breaking the silence. Coolly, he slid his chair back, and stood, giving Casey one last, hard look before turning and heading out the door. Casey was stunned, but quickly recovered, scrambling out of her seat and out the door after him.
"Paul?" she called after him, her voice breaking a little. He turned slowly to face her, his face still carefully arranged in a stoic mask. "I—I don't understand," was all she said, the three words meaning so many things. There was so much she didn't understand right now.
Paul sighed, and closed his eyes, shaking his head a little. Opening his eyes, he met her watery gaze, and said simply, "It's over, Casey." With that, he turned on his heel, and continued to walk down the sidewalk, towards his car.
Casey stood, staring after him, frozen. She stayed like that for a good while, before finally wandering back to the apartment, in a daze. The words echoed in her mind: It's over.
The apartment was dead silent as the two step-siblings sat on the floor of the kitchen, mulling over the story, and the events of the past few days. Derek found himself slowly becoming enraged, furious that Paul would do something so terrible to Casey. That man had no right to treat his step-sister like that. His hands were clenched into tight fists, and he was on the verge of standing up and storming out of the apartment to hunt down Paul the Guidance Counselor, Paul the Asshole, and give him a piece of what he deserved. But no sooner had he shifted his weight, than he caught sight of his step-sister's face, which was enough to give him pause.
Casey was staring vacantly at the floor, her mouth drooping in a tiny, pitiful frown. Her blue eyes were swimming with tears, and a few of them silently trickled down her cheeks, splashing quietly onto the tile floor.
Casey had always been a loud crier. She snuffled and sniffled and bawled and blew and honked and hooted and made all kinds of noise. As much as Derek hated tears, he had come to at least be able to kind of deal with Casey's bawling over the years.
But this? This was silent crying. This was heart-breaking, gut-wrenching, just-tears-no-frills crying, and he had never seen Casey cry like that before. He scared him more than he cared to admit, and without even really knowing what he was doing, he suddenly found himself putting his arms around her, pulling her to him, and letting her cry silently into his chest. Awkwardly, he stroked her hair, and just sat with her like that for an undecipherable amount of time.
I feel like Paul is really out of character in this chapter, but I'm also figuring he would be a little different outside of his role as a guidance counselor, and especially in a relationship. I hope no one feels like I'm rushing the story of their relationship, but I really dont feel much of a need to spend time detailing the boring little parts of their relationship. There is a lot to come yet in this entire tale, and I want to move things forward. Its more than just Casey recapping her relationship with Paul ;)
