This request goes like this:
"Can you do a fanfic where Dez and Carrie get back together, but suddenly Carrie breaks up with him again? Of course Dez is devastated but Trish tries her best to console him in the way that she can. Just make it sweet and cute (auslly isnt there with Dez they can be out on a date or something) thank you :)"
Hope you like it! I kind of incorporated Austin and Ally a bit, but had it so they couldn't stay. Hope that's okay!
Special thanks to BossVicCossWynch for her help! c:
"Dezzy…Dez. I know that we just got back together recently, but…" Carrie starts, her eyes falling down to the table in front of her. The normally bouncy blonde seems off, and not in her usual chipper way either.
"What's wrong, babe?" her redheaded boyfriend inquires, leaning over the table and taking her hands in his. He tries to establish eye contact with her, but she isn't having it. She sighs, and though it is painful for her to do so, she manages to look him in the eyes.
"It's just not the same anymore, Dez. We're done. And I don't just mean with this dinner." She pulls her hands away from his and gets up from the table. Dez stares off in the same direction, his mind taking its sweet time to process what had just happened. Carrie grabs her clutch and lays a few twenties down on the table. "Dinner's on me," she insists. He looks up at her.
"Y-you mean…You don't want to be with me?" His bottom lip quivers as his eyes start to glaze over. "B-but…We…You…" He holds her gaze for short while, but as soon as the heaviness from his hurt comes crashing down on him, he buries his face in his hands. She pats his back gently, trying to comfort him.
"Dez, don't cry. It's just…I don't think this is working. And it's not just because of the long-distance. I know it's not just me. I know you feel it, too. I'm so sorry. I really hope we can stay friends or something."
"Or something." He pulls his hands away from his face and turns to look at her. She frowns, turning away, unable to face him any longer, then walks away. His hands find their way back to his face.
"I don't understand," Dez manages to utter through his heavy, unceasing sobs. "We just got back together." The blond minds the redheaded boy with sympathy in his eyes. He gives the boy's shoulder a gentle squeeze, trying to put him at ease, and lets out a heavy exhale.
It had been a long day for Austin – between prepping for the dance class he had to teach later and helping Ally out with keeping Ridley calm, barely a trickle of energy remains in him – and he still has yet to teach his class. But he has to be there for his best friend, too. That's what best friends do, right?
"Dez…It'll be okay. If Carrie doesn't want you, forget about her. It's her loss. There's absolutely no one like you out there, and some lucky girl will see that someday and you'll get your happily ever after. I guarantee it, buddy." Austin shifts forward and wraps his arms around the blubbering boy, who proceeded to sob in his shoulder.
"Austin!" a voice calls out from atop the staircase.
"Yes, my little Goose-Pickle?" he asks his girlfriend, teasingly, gently pulling away from Dez and turning around on the couch to look up at her. The girl rolls her eyes and heads down the stairs.
"Your class is about to start. You and Dez can cuddle later. You should probably get going, Tiger-Pancake," she retaliates. Austin frowns, turning to his sobbing friend. He can't just leave Dez alone in this state. As Ally draws closer, it finally registers that Dez had been crying. Not the loud, comical sobbing that she had gotten used to, but the quiet and deep kind, with him gasping every now and then for air. It pains her to watch and listen to him be this way – it just isn't him. The him whose tears were always short-lived. The him that could be cheered up with ease. The him that would usually have snide remark about her hair by this time of day.
"Hey, Ally, can you stick around while I go teach? I think Dez could use some company." Austin rubs his friend's back. Dez, now bent over in his seat, face buried in his hands, continues weeping relentlessly.
"I…I wish I could, Austin…But I already promised Ridley I'd be there for her at the performance she's giving for her friend's birthday party. It starts soon, I need to get going now, actually." Ally frowns. "I'm sorry, Dez…Don't take this too hard, okay? If not Carrie, you'll find someone else."
"Let's face it, I'm a l-lost cause," he responds between sobs, his voice muffled by his hands. "Just like your h-hair." Ally sighs, unsure of how to respond to that.
"I coulda told you that," another voice rings through the music factory. Austin and Ally turn to face the entrance.
"Trish!" Ally pleads her, her hand making a cutting gesture in the air, telling the girl to stop.
"Trish, not now," Austin turns around and sends a warning to her, through his teeth. She peers over at Dez, the boy not bothering to respond to her quip, nor lift his face out of his hands.
"Oh," she states, the situation finally sinking in. This is clearly no time for witty comebacks and colorful insults. She pulls Austin off the couch by his collar, getting him to stand up. She points towards the dance studio with her thumb. "Go. You have a class to teach." He nods, and rushes over, not wanting to create any further conflict with the girl. Trish then turns to her bestie, "And don't you have to go meet up with Ridley?"
"Right…You think you can handle Dez while we're gone?" Ally grits her teeth, worried about the idea of leaving Dez behind with Trish while he's in such a fragile state. Trish scoffs.
"Please. Handle Dez? I've been doing that for years! Now, run along. I got this." She shoos her friend out the double-doors. Upon doing so, she retreats back to the sofa, promptly seating herself beside the blubbering boy. Dez finally manages to pull his face away from his hands and looks at her – tired eyes reddened and glazed over.
"Wh–" he starts, only to be cut off by her finger over his lips.
"No, no. Don't speak. Just listen," she directs him. He nods quietly, patiently waiting for her to continue. She purses her lips, the sight of those silent tears trickling down his face making this conversation all the harder for her. "You're such a doof." She shakes her head.
"Is that supposed to m-make me feel better 'cause–" She holds a hand up in front of her to silence him again.
"I wasn't finished." She drops her hand, letting it rest on her lap. She holds her gaze sternly against his, and the boy begins to fear his mortality. What did I do now?, he wonders. He rarely ever had been able to figure out why she would be annoyed with him. It never did make sense to him. She leans a bit closer, resting her hand gently on his thigh. He tenses up, his fears only doubling.
"Dez. You're only eighteen. And don't tell anybody I said this, but you're kind of a catch," she admits. Dez's brows push together. He stares at her, bewildered, as if he can't recognize the girl sitting next to him. Trish rolls her eyes at his reaction and takes a deep breath before continuing. "And no, I'm not going to tell you that you shouldn't cry. I get it. Getting dumped sucks. But what sucks more is you thinking so little of yourself, believing you're a 'lost cause' or whatever. No one should make you feel that way."
"Says the g-girl who can't go a day without insulting me somehow." He smiles weakly at her.
"You see that, though?" She points at his face. "You're smiling. Look, I know my limits. If I knew it would really hurt you, I wouldn't say it," she explains herself. "But that's beside the point. Look, I'm not all that good at comforting and giving advice, but I'll tell you what: my schedule's free today – how about we hang out? Just the two of us? Get your mind off things."
"I'd like that." He nods, his smile growing. "And you're not that bad at comforting. Though next time, I'd like ice cream, too."
"Don't push it, bub." She tightens her lips and squeezes his thigh, digging her freshly manicured nails into it slightly.
"Ow, ow, ow!" He pulls his thigh away and glares at her. He drops the glare after a few seconds, and looked as if he had reached some sort of epiphany. "We should go get ice cream! Oh, and you're buying." Her turn to glare.
"Fine," she replies, exasperated. "But you're really not making this easy on me, doofus. You–" Before she can continue, she finds herself being pulled into the boy's arms. She sighs, returning the hug quickly before pushing him off of her. "Let's just go already!"
"Exactly! Like they did so much with so little in the first and third movies, but in this one, even with all the cool CG and stuff, it just didn't look seamless." Dez takes a bite out of his ice cream cone.
"Yeah, you'd think it'd look better, right?" Trish agrees, taking a spoonful of her own frozen treat. "And Dez, stop biting your ice cream, you're gonna give yourself a brain freeze."
"Relax, Trish, I know what I'm do–eeeeeeeeeeeeaaaahhhhhhhh!" he screams, grasping his head with one hand. Trish giggles, setting her cup on a table and taking his cone from him.
"Alright, sit down. Enough ice cream for you." She tosses his cone into a nearby waste bin.
"Hey!" Dez whines, eyes wincing as his headache ensues. "I wasn't done with that!" Trish takes a seat at the table.
"Sit down, Dez," she orders, more sternly. He complies without any further argument.
"See, this is why I'm always going to need you around. You look out for me." He leans his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand.
"Sorry, what?" she smirks, unsure of whether or not to be flattered or uncomfortable. Dez lets his hand fall onto the table.
"You look out for me. Y'know, keep me grounded. Make sure I don't just flutter away," he explains, gesturing a flutter with his hands. That never ceases to make her smile, even if that smile is accompanied with an eye roll. "Your friendship…You mean a lot to me, Trish," he continues slowly, his own words perplexing him. He scrunches his brows together and looks down at the table in front of him, sorting out his thoughts.
"So what you're saying is I'm a good friend?" she asks for clarification, a tad unsettled by the direction this conversation seemed to take.
"I'm saying you're my best friend." He looks up to face her.
"Austin's your best friend."
"I know." He nods. "But…You are, too. And since he and Ally have been together a lot lately, I've had less and less time with him, and, well, more and more with you. Not that I'm complaining." He shrugs.
"I don't know, Dez. I mean, you're a good friend, sure, but I don't think we're that close." She takes another spoonful of ice cream.
"Hey, we watch marathons together, go to the movies together, film together, go to conventions together, drink each other's beverages, eat each other's food…" he starts listing off as he pulls her ice cream over to his side of the table and takes a spoonful for himself. She promptly snatches it back, causing him to pout.
"I think you mean you drink my beverages and eat my food," she retorts. "But, yeah, the other stuff is sort've best friend stuff, I guess."
"And at least I have you there to partake in the eye-rolling and fake-gagging with me when Austin and Ally are being too obnoxiously adorable." Trish nods, and they share a laugh. "Y'know it's actually not so bad being single if I get to hang out with you…It helps me forget."
"Right." Trish's smile drops, her stomach feeling the strangest of sensations. This conversation has her feeling uneasy. She tosses her empty ice cream cup into the trash, rises from her seat, and starts heading on over to the Music Factory, not too far away. Dez, confused by her abruptness, gets up from his seat and follows her. She pushes through the double-doors of the store and makes a bee line for the couch.
"Trish, wait!" Dez catches up to her and grabs her hand, getting her to stop in her tracks. She pulls it away. "What's wrong? Was it something I said?" he inquires innocently, studying her expression upon her turning to face him.
"It was everything you said, Dez." She closes her eyes and massages her temples with her fingers as she processes her thoughts. He tilts his head, watching her, awaiting further response.
"All I said was that we're best friends. Aren't we?" Trish can see his eyes starting to glaze over as he asks this. She cannot possibly break him down again after she spent so long building him back up.
"Yes, Dez. We are. I think you made that pretty clear," she agrees. Dez starts to feel at ease, a heaviness lifting off of him. He blinks away the wetness of his eyes. "But…" At this one word, he feels a chill in his throat, and the heaviness returning to his chest.
"The way you made it sound…" she exhales sharply in a light laugh.
"What, w-what is it?" he presses, his nervousness building up substantially. He debates with himself; wanting to hear what she has to say, yet at the same time dreading her answer. She shakes her head.
"Never mind. It's crazy. You can't possibly..." She looks around, as if worried others were watching. Though the room is empty, she feels her face heat up all the same.
"–What, Trish, what?!" He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her, the anticipation now killing him. She swats his hands off of her.
"Calm down, whack-a-doodle!" she rebukes him, and he retracts his hands. "You just…Ugh…You made it sound like our relationship is beyond even best friends. Like we're a couple or something." She shudders. He frowns.
"Would that be such a bad thing?" he asks, drawing closer to her, once again.
"I…" she fixates her eyes on his, trying to decipher whether or not he's being serious. The answer she finds in his eyes confuses her. And yet, it feels exactly right. "No, I guess it wouldn't be bad. Weird, maybe, but…Not bad." He grins at her answer.
"So, um…I'm not really sure how this works – should I just ask you out and we can start from there? 'Cause, I-I've asked you out before, but those were like friend-dates, but I mean we'll probably just be doing the same stuff so–mmmph!" she cuts off his ramblings by stand on her tip-toes, tugging him down by the collar, and colliding his lips against hers.
He stands still, eyes widened – frozen in shock. He lifts his hands at his sides, unsure of what to do with them, where to place them, or whether or not he should do anything at all. Slowly, but surely, his body takes over for him; eyes closing and hands working their way into her curly locks. He pushes his lips against hers, deepening the kiss, causing her to moan from the pressure. Her hands work their way up to his face – holding him at his cheeks and running her thumbs lightly across his jawline.
As the kiss progresses, they fall back onto the couch – Dez trapped underneath the girl. Not that he's complaining. Now comfortable, now secure, he kisses her back without abandon. Her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, her shoulder, the tip of her nose, then working his way back to her reddened lips. She rakes her fingers through his hair, tugging ever so slightly to pull him closer. The heated exchange ends abruptly, however, as they hear the practice room door close.
Trish quickly moves off of him, sitting upright and adjusting her shirt, fixing up her hair. Dez does the same, however has trouble trying to calm his breathing.
"Dez? Trish?" the blond boy asks, descending the stairs. "Everything alright down here? I heard weird noises."
"Yeah. Everything's fine. Bozo here was just…Showing me all the bird calls he can mimic," Trish quickly rattles off a lie.
"Yeah, we weren't kissing or anything. Psh–ow!" Dez yelps upon getting elbowed in the side by the fiery girl. Austin raises a brow at them, placing his hands on his hips.
"Oh…Kay. Well, I gotta go take Ally out for dinner. You think you guys can close up tonight?" he asks the duo curiously, seemingly oblivious.
"Yeah, sure, totally," Trish responds quickly, ushering the blond boy out the door. "We've got this covered."
"Alright." He hands her the keys and starts walking away. Trish lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh!" Austin turns around to face her.
"What is it?"
"Make sure you two don't knock over any instruments while you both are, uh…'Mimicking bird calls'," he says, gesturing with finger quotes. He winks at her, pivots on his heel and heads off, leaving the girl dumbfounded. She closes the door and turns back to the redhead.
"Way to go, genius. Now he knows."
"What? No, didn't you hear him? He bought the bird-calls story!" he smiles at her cheerfully. Tightening her lips and clenching her fists, it takes everything she's got in her not to argue. She lets out a heavy exhale and joins him back on the couch.
"You're right. You do need me around." She laughs. Puzzled at first, he shrugs off her comment and simply returns her smile with his own. She rests her head on his shoulder.
Seeing her smile his way had knocked the 'Dez' right back into him.
I hope this was okay with you all! I'll try to get to the others as soon as I can!
-AJ