This chapter totally did not turn out like I wanted, so I'm sorry if any of it sounds weird, but Casey and Derek just were not talking, and what they said wasn't really what I wanted them to say... it came out all differently and all that jazz. But, eh, I guess it's supposed to be weird. I kept adding stuff like towards the end too, as I remembered stuff, so, eh. And I kinda hope Derek doesn't come off like this huge asshole. Oh, and you do get to find out about Marti in this chapter. Don't worry... her injury was nothing serious. I'm sorry if I gave anyone the idea that that was like an intentional cliffhanger or something 'cause it totally wasn't meant to be that, by the way... This chapter's pretty heavy towards the end. But oh well. Only four more chapters 'til the end! Aren't you excited?

So, a little bit about the next chapter... It's called Notice Me Then. Paul makes an appearance, or at least I think he will, so that will definitely be a bit of a challenge since I've never written him before, and it might be a bit of a long one. Oh, and Emily makes a reappearance, as does Icky Vicky. Though I haven't quite figured out how that's going to work, but it will. Anyways, I'm not going to say anything more about the chapter because I'll wind up saying too much, and I want to surprise you guys, obviously.

I hope you all like this chapter. It's kind of a transitional phase, mind you...

Oh, and I don't own LWD. I own my version of it, though. Since this was generally written before the episodes where everything was established. But I don't own the characters. Oh, and I also don't own a bit of the Sam/Derek dialogue: the who better/indeed bit, and the two things said before that. Because I totally stole that from Gossip Girl, lol. I just thought it'd be funny to drop that in there, like those actual lines/words.

"How did this happen? How does a person who prides herself on being in total control lose it? Why am I sitting on the bathroom floor? The answer to all of these questions could only be... Derek."

For the first time in my life I'm not tormenting Casey. Well, my life recently. And I don't know what to do with myself. It's surreal, you know? So after the fiasco with Marti this weekend, I decided to take a page out of her book and try my best to forget about it. Forgetting is what's best for all of us. But it's hard, even though I've gone out of my way to avoid her lately. I'm even staying at home more now. I guess 'cause I feel like I deserve their punishment.

I was an asshole, and I can admit that. I deserve everything I'm getting. It wasn't worth it, but I thought it was back then. But I mean, I still go out and do stuff. My life hasn't stopped just because I feel bad. It's kind of a relief not always having to top myself. I've been trying to be more courteous, more serious, you know. So I'm not screwing girls all the time. A lot fewer of them, and quietly instead. I'm trying to cut back on my drinking, too, because I know it's not healthy, and I don't want to be an alcoholic or anything. And now I just turn my head when she's with Sam.

There's hockey, girls, parties... that's enough for me. I don't need love, and I'm getting over her. It's just taking longer than expected. And I suspect dating Vicky doesn't particularly help, but she's the only person I want to be around lately. She's the least annoying of the girls I've been with lately, and she and I both want the same things out of this thing we've got going. So I might as well, you know? I kinda like her, anyways.

But no contact... is weird. We only talk now when we have to, and if I didn't know her better, I'd think Casey missed it. I miss her. I miss arguing with her, but I can't go back. I don't know how to do that, and until I do... until I can honestly say I look at her in a remotely sisterly light... which, if I'm being really honest with myself, will probably never happen... then I can't talk to her. She kept me on my toes, you know? And when you're a guy like me, that doesn't happen much. I miss being put in my place. I miss her screaming my name.

Ugh. I've got to stop this before I get mopey or something else that's demeaning to my pride. I am not that kind of guy. I've still got my dignity!

Marti's doing okay, by the way. She's showing off, like always, and won't stop talking about her new scar. She thinks it's only the most awesome thing ever. Marti, of course, fails to see me flinch every time she talks about it. I know Nora and Dad don't blame me because, duh, she's Marti, and she's got my curiosity, and Casey's a huge klutz... but still, I feel like it was my fault. I mean, I was seriously deranged for a while there. And Paul's right, you know? Revenge doesn't solve anything.

That being said, of course, messing around with her... I haven't felt that alive in weeks. Oh my God. It felt so... right. It was exactly what I was missing and more. And she felt so damn good. It was perfect. She was purring my name and responding exactly like I wanted her, and all thoughts out of tormenting her and filming her just went out the window. Oh, and the moaning! I can still hear her moaning, still feel her skin, her moving against me. I'd taught her too well. She was saying all the right things, too, and her lips were mocking me, all pink and moist and pouty. I wanted to kiss her so bad, but she wouldn't let me, and it didn't matter when my lips were on her neck, and I could feel her pulse jumping underneath my tongue. I haven't been that turned on in a long time either. It was painful.

I've been having dreams about it every night like some virgin preteen geek, and I keep replaying it over and over in my head, again and again. Only now there's all these questions. Like does she use these moves on Sam? Has she used them on another guy? The feeling of her body against mine, her limbs twisted around me, thoughts of testing her flexibility... And then there's the wondering if her pulse racing was a side effect of me or because she was afraid? If she even felt anything for me at all. Was she as turned on as I was? How much exactly did she know what she was doing? Did she mean any of what she said that night?

I miss being able to do all that. I miss touching her whenever I wanted, finding excuses... But wow, this is getting seriously emo. I've gotta stop this awful reminiscing. I'm depressing now. It's like when Sally left for Vancouver, only a million and a half times worse. I'm so sick of this pain that won't go away. It's not in my nature to wallow in it, and I am definitely above self-pity. I don't want to be fricking pathetic, okay?!

So, anyways, I was walking down the hallway with Sam, trying to become less hostile towards him, when Sam raised an unusual and surprising point. As in I'm stunned he thought of it because he is way dense. He turns to me and asks all casual-like, with a slightly worried look on his face, "Hey, D, do you know if Casey was seeing anyone? When we were, you know, broken up?" Dude, I swear his voice cracked. Now, normally I love to make fun of Sam, but that's legit, so I can't exactly mock him for finally noticing. And I kinda perked up because if he actually figured it out (not that he did), then I'm definitely in hot water.

Attracted to my stepsister I may be, and in love with her, sure, secretly, but do I want either of those things to become public knowledge? Of course not. I have a reputation to uphold! So I swallowed hard but managed to play it off because Sam's not the sharpest tack in the box. I shrugged, speeding up my pace a little. "I dunno. It's not like I exactly keep tabs on who Spacey hangs out with, Sam," I replied somewhat irritatedly, belying my unease. Lately, no, I haven't been. 'Cause I don't want to think about her anymore. It's freaking exhausting. And a waste of my time and goes against these efforts to forget about her. Otherwise, of course, I'd know, or I'd get Edwin to snoop for me. Sam frowned and got this cute little confused look on his face, one of those stupid hopeful ones.

"C'mon, Derek..." He shot me a pleading look. Since I dislike him, not even enough feeling to despise him, I had no trouble ignoring it. I turned away, rolling my eyes. Foolishly, Samuel persisted in trying to aggravate me further. "You live with her. You must have some idea of where she was going... who was coming in and out of your house," He pointed out, trying to appeal to my reason. Too bad that was against him too. And, what, is he trying to say I don't know who comes in and out of my home? I am the MASTER of my home. Just ask anyone... especially Casey.

I shot him a dark look. "What are you trying to say, Sam? That I'm supposed to stare at the front door all the time waiting for one of Casey's many suitors to show up and woo her? In case-y you haven't noticed, I happen to have a life," I retorted sarcastically. Or is he trying to say that I am not the master of my own house? That I don't know every last thing going on inside of it? His eyebrows went up when I mentioned her many suitors. Truthfully, though, there haven't been that many... Sam, Scott, Trevor, Tinker, Max, Noel, Truman... me. I mentally patted myself on the back for making him worry."And my life does not revolve around Casey. I have better things to do than spy on my stepsister. That's Ed's gig, not mine," I rejoined especially vitriolically, since that was mostly a blatant lie. My life revolves around Casey a lot more than I'm willing to admit, sadly enough.

Sensing an opening, I slowed down and eventually stopped, shooting him a look. I forced myself to be calm, maintaining a smile that felt like a grimace. "Besides, Sam, what makes you think she was dating anyone when you two were broken up?"

He made a face. "Max gave me a heads-up." I cocked an eyebrow at that in disbelief. What the hell is Max doing talking to Sam? The ugly look on Sam's face got worse. He looked pissed. "When he found out we got back together, he gave me this little warning... He looked really surprised, and he said that she'd seemed really into this other guy. He said they'd talked, and she told him she was with someone." I suddenly remembered the phone calls I'd overheard, and a grim smile swept across my face. Then Sam said something really stupid. "But I didn't think they were friends anymore..."

Seriously, sometimes I really wanna smack that kid in the head and tell him to buy a clue! "They're not." I rolled my eyes, deciding to make Sam hate Max. It'll be to my advantage, after all. Plus he's really an asshole. "Max only knows because he was calling her, trying to get back with her. He was coming on to her! She rejected him flat-out, time and time again. Now, she might've told him she had a boyfriend, but does that mean she was telling the truth? Or does it just mean she wanted him to screw off and stop calling?" I informed him intelligently. For a moment, Sammy was content to ponder this.

Nevertheless, he still shook his head. "But Casey's a horrible liar, Dere. Everybody knows that."

Touché. Well, I'll be damned. Sam has a decent point for once.

But it'll be all too easy to convince him otherwise. Just watch. I'm a pro. "I mean, this is Casey we're talking about here. She does homework on Friday nights and thinks extra credit is fun. You really think she found another guy?" I said skeptically, trying to turn him off of the idea. Because if he starts thinking he'd suspect me... or he'll keep asking questions I don't want to answer. Which is just annoying.

Sam nodded, contemplating it. I thought I had him going, but then he shook his head. "She was different, though... Happier, less neurotic, less dramatic... more busy, like she had her hands full with someone else. She was just so disinterested... less Casey. And I practically had to kiss her feet to get her to agree to even go out with me again, and that was just for one date. She was so adamant about it, too, at first, that it wasn't a date, just a friends thing..." Sam mused. I wanted to punch him because hearing that reminded me of how much of an idiot I'd been. Maybe things would be different if I'd just trusted her.

I sighed heavily, and Sam looked at me funny. Great. "Why does it even matter if she was with anyone in your absence, Sam? She's dating you now, and that's long in the past... Why bother torturing yourself over the mere possibility of her with someone else? What's done is done, Sammy," I told him, resigned. Why does he need to question it? He's got the girl. Why the need to know?

This time he sighed. His eyes were on the floor, and he looked anxious, biting his lip. "Well, it's just... Things aren't the way they used to be. Casey's not the same person, you know? I just have this feeling that there was someone else, you know? And she's been so distant that I'm not sure whatever it is is over... I feel like I'm losing her, and I can't lose her, Derek," Sam admitted a bit shamefully. He shot me a nervous look, like he thought he'd revealed too much. Why does he care so much? He can't actually love her, right? Can he?

"It's over," I proclaimed instantaneously. I couldn't help myself, and Sam gave me a weird look in response. I could sense the question before he asked it, so I shut him down. "If, that is, anything actually happened... Casey's not a cheater." Unlike you, I almost added. Sam looked reassured, and I hated that it was a result of my actions, but eh, at least he deserved the truth. Who knows? Maybe this joker of a best friend of mine actually makes her happy. If that's true, then maybe I owe it to the guy to be a bit nicer. She chose him, not me. I think... "What are you trying to say, Sammy?" I asked, feeling somewhat confused.

Sam scowled deeply, leaning against the lockers. "I think she's got feelings for the guy, whoever he is. She's been so distracted lately, you know, that maybe she's thinking about getting back with him," Sam confessed worriedly. Normally this would've pissed me off, but it was actually helpful. I was probably the reason she'd been distracted, but when the first part registered, my jaw dropped, and I took a step back in disbelief. My head shot up, eyes widened, and I perked up like a puppy or a damn flower or a horny preteen's dick. And I backed smack into Truman, the douchebag, which sent both of us falling to the floor. I got up quickly, scowling at him over my shoulder. Feelings? That guy was me! That's just... It can't be possible! Can it? Dare I hope? Ugh, I sound like a pansy. And seriously, what am I, Klutzilla? "Watch where you're walking, dumbass!" I shouted at him irately, trying to save face.

My supposed friend looked concerned. He put a hand on my shoulder, and I sort of freaked out and shoved it off. Which is understandable, given he had a sexual relationship with a guy who looked like me. Prolly because he looked like me. "D, man, you okay?" I nodded, muttering about how the asshole had just come out of nowhere. Sam then saw fit to continue begging me to figure out who Casey's secret boyfriend was. Conflict of interest much?

He frowned, putting his hands on my shoulders. I was really uncomfortable with him getting that close, that in-my-face. "Look, Derek, I know how you feel about Casey." Wow, I should really not be so alarmed by that statement. God, I hope it doesn't show. That would be embarrassing. This poker face has never failed me. "And I wouldn't be asking you to do this if there was anyone else I could ask." Uh, hello, there is! There's oh, I dunno, your girlfriend (not that Sam favors the direct route), for starters! Not to mention Emily, Lizzie, Nora, or one of her little dance buddies... Edwin the spy. Need I continue? "But you're the only one I can trust." I almost laughed aloud at that, really.

Bro, I am the last person you can trust here. Frankly, you'd be better off trusting Max.

Sam pouted, leaning in a little more and making me more uncomfortable. "Could please you find out who she was seeing?" He had this pathetically desperate look which made me think maybe he did have some feelings for her after all. Or he's a jealous psycho. Not that I'm one to talk, am I? However, the look also reminded me of all the favors I probably owed him. Plus he was really close, so I had to capitulate.

I am not a man of subtlety, so I told him flat out. "Me." With a lovely little smirk because it was kind of hilarious. I had backed away from him, just in case (and because it was creepin' me), by this point. Unfortunately, I guess there was a questioning lilt to my voice or something, but anyways, Sam thought I was joking or asking a question or something. Dumbass.

He shot me a look, putting a hand on my shoulder. "C'mon, D. You live with her. Who better?" I practically snorted. Seriously. I had to suppress it. It took me a long moment to regain my calm. Especially since I really wanted to laugh at him. Nevertheless, I took a deep breath and smiled.

"Indeed..." I muttered, half under my breath. No one's better equipped for the job. I shrugged Sam's hand off my shoulder, giving him an annoyed look. My gaze was stern, convicting. "I'll do it. But I really don't think you've got anything to worry about, and I probably won't find anything... And asking me to do your dirty work isn't exactly going to win you any points with Casey. Besides, even if she was seeing someone, she's certainly not seeing him anymore," I declared bluntly, shaking hands with him. No hugging.

Sam's whole being brightened up, which was really disturbing. As was his ear-to-ear-grin. Like I'm doing him this huge favor when I'm really trying to cover my own tracks. Now, I can either say there's nothing going on, that Casey's clean, or I can pick a guy for her to have hooked up with... Hmm. Well, Truman pisses me off, but he'd actually like that, and who knows how she'd feel about it, so maybe he's out, as much as I would like to see him punched in the face. There's always Noel... Hm, maybe that'd work. Sam patted my shoulder hard. "Thanks so much, D-man! I owe you one! Anyways, catcha at practice later!" He promptly ran off to class like some little fairy who actually cared about being on time. No, seriously, it was like he skipped or flew or something. He was chirpingly excited about it, which probably means Casey's in that class.

Hmm... Maybe he's more whipped than I thought, eh? Who would've thunk it? "You're telling me," I muttered, heading to my own class. Though, really, why does he need to know? He's the one who cheated on her. It's not like it's the other way around. Nevertheless, I suppose I understand his need to know who he's up against. Not that he's ever gonna find that out. Unlike Sam the Lame, I took my sweet time in getting there. After all, she (my bitchy teacher) can wait. I just don't care about being late.

Anyways, fast forward to lunch. Imagine my surprise when Casey just walked up to me as I was emerging from class, fully intending to go for a well-deserved cigarette break. Like it was no thing. Nothing. Like it wasn't the first time we'd spoken all weekend. She had this determined glint in her eye I haven't seen for a long time, and I knew instantly that she wanted to talk, and it wouldn't be about meaningless crap. She crossed her arms over her chest, sighing heavily. "We need to talk, Derek," She said weightily.

I wondered what on earth she could possibly have to tell me that was so serious. There was this grave look on her face too, and her skin was the color of rice pudding or spoiled milk, you know... Sickly pale. Nevertheless, I popped my collar and postured. Because a guy's got to have his dignity, you know, and I'm just too cool for school. "Oh, come crawling back to me already? You know, got a case of seller's remorse once you figured out what you were missing?" I replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow. Casey full-on scowled at me, and then she looked petrified upon realizing I'd said it in the public hallway. But, come on, I wouldn't have said it if I thought people were going to call me an incestuous freak.

"Der-EK!" Casey snapped, still mortified. She glanced around worriedly and moved closer to me as if that would make me quieter or something. I just smirked. Look at that. Got her to scream my name again. Wow, she's easy. Casey opened her mouth like she was going to give me a lecture, and duh, of course she was. She would've made a complete fool of herself, and while I do relish the cracks in Casey's carefully-crafted facade, I don't really have the time.

"Chill, Case... It was a joke," I explained, rolling my eyes. Not a very funny one, but sometimes we make jokes out of pain or to avoid pain. That's just what I'm doing, you know? Best to have a sense of humor about it so I don't take it too seriously and wind up Mr. Mopes-A-Lot. I leaned against the locker, bored and trying to distract myself from her all-too distracting presence. I can't stare at her for too long, you know? It's like the sun. It's bad for your eyes.

It hurts sometimes.

A little glance here or there from the side. Can't let her get to me. "So, what exactly did you want to talk to me about, Caserella?" I asked calmly. I was amazed at how easy it was not to be hostile to her. I didn't want anything from her anymore, and it was weird talking to her and not wanting something. It shouldn't be this easy, you know. It shouldn't be so easy to pretend nothing happened. But I guess her way's the easy way out. Come to think of it, it's a wonder I didn't try this route on my own.

Must be because I'm in love with her. If I'd just hooked up with her, it would've been easy to forget about the whole thing, for the most part. Damn her eyes!

Casey looked down as if she was ashamed and moved closer to me, crossing an arm over her middle. Her eyes kept darting around, and I wondered what she could possibly tell me. Whatever it was, she sure looked nervous. She licked her lips, and my eyes were immediately drawn there, distracted and unfocused. She cleared her throat. "Derek..." I nodded dimly, still focused on her moist, full, pink lips. "Der-ek! Won't you at least pay attention to me when I'm talking to you?" She snapped whinily.

My eyes immediately shot back up to her face. I mentally congratulated myself for getting her to say my name that way again. I smiled grimly. "I'm all ears, Space Case. Now, why don't you hurry it up? I've got more important things to do," I demanded somewhat brusquely. I can't let this go on. Not for too long or I'll get caught back up in it again. Casey scowled at me, and I looked at her expectantly. She relented quickly under my stare and came still closer, grabbing my arm without even thinking of it. If she had, I'm sure she would've realized it was a bad idea.

Finally she broke down and confessed, "I'm late." I blinked at her. Wow. That was anticlimactic.

I rolled my eyes at her. Duh. "To lunch? Uh, yeah!" I rolled my eyes again just for good measure, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking an eyebrow. "Now... is that really all you wanted to talk to me about? 'Cause I think you could've done a little better job making something up if you wanted an excuse to see me," I told her impatiently. There was, of course, a cocky undertone in my voice. I had reason to be cocky. It was the lamest excuse I'd ever heard. I mean, c'mon, Casey, way to state the obvious.

Casey sighed, looking flushed and frustrated. "Yes, Derek," She repeated patiently, "I'm late." Yeah, Casey, you kinda already said that. I rolled my eyes, and Casey seethed not too silently. I barely managed to fight down the smirk creeping up on the corners of my lips. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" I cocked an eyebrow, crossing my arms over her chest. Her hand was placed angrily on her hip, her lips pursed, posture stiff. She then proceeded to spell it out for me. Literally. "L-A-T-E, rhymes with hate... Je suis en retard. Yo soy tarde." Clue the blank look from moi. I mean, it's one thing to state the obvious, but yet another to repeat it. In different languages that she knows I both was definitely flunking, although I'm better at French (it's a Canadian thing, plus the French dudes get all the girls. I know how to say a little "voulez-vous me baiser ce soir?", if you know what I'm saying). And, hello, if she'd just gone to lunch on time instead of sequestering me here, then she wouldn't be late. So her making herself late to yell at me about it is rather stupid.

"Then why don't you just go to lunch and stop bitching about it?" I pointed out, getting irritated quickly. This whole conversation is pointless. I don't even care if she wants to talk to me. Damn it, I'm hungry, and I'm not about to be any later for her! I want to eat, not waste my time talking to my evil stepsister.

She made this sort of screaming noise, grabbing my arms and shoving me into the locker, clearly fed up. "Der-ek! I'm late, not as in late to lunch..." She huffed. Her voice dropped an octave lower, and once again her eyes swept around the hallway for any signs of life. And then she leaned in a little bit more, looking into my eyes although it was clear that she didn't want to. "As in my period's over a week late. As in it's not here," She said in a whisper. Her voice hitched, and she looked strangely scared. I didn't really get it, although, in retrospect, maybe I should have. I made a face at her revelation. She was giving me this look like I should know what that meant, like it should mean something to me too.

It didn't. It was gross, honestly. "As hard as this may be for you to believe, Sis, I don't want to hear about your menstrual cycles," I said bluntly with as straight a face as I could manage. My face was, in reality, twisted into a kind of grimace. I mean, just, EW! "So you're not PMSing. You're just naturally a dramatic, overemotional, psychotic bitch." Casey slapped me hard across the face then. I didn't see it coming, so it genuinely stung. Nevertheless, it didn't stop me. I just grabbed her wrist so she couldn't do it again and kept going. Rolling my eyes, I drawled carelessly, "Seems to me like you should be glad about that. I mean, who actually wants blood shooting out of them?"

Casey rolled her eyes, a disgusted look passing over her features. I was nonplussed. She was giving me that "you're misunderstanding my purpose again" look. I exhaled, bored and rather tired of the conversation. "Why don't you tell me why I should care, then?" I proclaimed irritably, finding myself getting mad against my will. I'm really sick of doing this with her, going around in circles. It's also kind of like she's speaking Hebrew.

This enraged Casey more than I could believe, and she grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, jerking me towards her, getting right up in my face. "I think I might be pregnant, Derek," She blurted with a force that shocked me to the core. She released me, and I fell against the locker, half out of surprise and half because she'd just relinquished her grip on me. That and my jaw dropped all the way to the floor. For a solid two minutes I couldn't even form a complete, coherent sentence. I couldn't say one damn thing.

Oh. So that's what she meant.

She gave me this challenging look, hands akimbo, looking just as stubborn as I remembered. She was pretty much daring me to do something about that, to challenge what she'd said, and I couldn't. Frankly, it was hard to wrap my mind around the whole idea. Casey, Little Miss Careful, possibly pregnant?! It couldn't be! Despite screwing her more times than I can entirely remember, it's still hard to really think of her as a sexual being. Which, I realize, is utterly bizarre, but, I dunno... It was different for her than it was for me, you know? She was rarely the initiator and usually just facilitated things.

Then it hit me. Sam. Why the hell was she coming to me? Why here, of all places? Why not in the privacy of our own home? "I think you've got the wrong guy. After all, we're done. Shouldn't you be going to Sammy-Whammy instead?" I retorted more bitterly than angrily. Casey flinched at the implication behind my words. She barely resisted slapping me. I could tell. She gave me a hard look instead and acted as if I hadn't said anything. Her stiff posture was the only thing that betrayed her.

"Come on, Derek. You're coming to the bathroom with me," She ordered, grabbing my wrist and dragging me towards the girls' room. Gee, it's not like I have a choice or anything. Real polite of you, Miss Manners. Who's the brute now? What exactly does she mean by this? Oh, and what if someone's actually in the bathroom? Won't they think it's suspicious? A guy, much less me, being dragged into the girls' washroom? Not that it's the first time or anything.

I raised my eyebrows at her. "A quickie? Well, why didn't you say so?" I winked at her sleazily. Seriously, if she did, I definitely would've come willingly. "I didn't know you were kinky like that, Case..." Having sex in a public place is so not Casey, you know? Much less her being all bossy about it. Although, you know, during our relationship, I was really surprised about all the places she was willing to have sex in... her bed, the couch, my recliner, the landing, on the stairs, up against the wall in the entryway, against the front door, on the hard wood floor (fitting, I suppose), against the counter, on top of the dining room table, on top of the washer AND dryer, the walls of the second floor hallway, on the stairs up to the attic, my backseat, my bed, against the sink, in the shower... Then again, after being with Sam for a while... I don't really blame her. She's got to be missing that feeling. Casey rolled her eyes and shoved me into the bathroom with a bit more force than was necessary. For my part, I bore it with grace.

She shot me a venomous look, pulling the door closed behind me. "Shut it, Derek." Then she locked the door. Of course I raised my eyebrows. I mean, what was I supposed to do or think? She fixed me with a glare that, of course, meant she knew exactly what I was thinking. The look also meant for me to cease and desist with those kind of thoughts, naturally. I leaned against the sink, bored. I mean, I'm locked in a bathroom with Casey. The last few times we did this were pretty damn exciting. This time? Not so much.

"So, why'd you bring me here? Gonna bump me off for good, Sunshine?" I quipped, rolling my eyes. Since Casey was just pacing like a typical idiot, I exhaled irritably and pushed myself up to sit on the counter. Luckily it wasn't wet. Guess girls are just more neat about that stuff. Casey didn't answer me. She was still pacing, clutching her purse, lost in her own world. Hmm, do you think I can leave? 'Cause I don't know what I'm doing here. Still. And I could be eating.

Some talking this is turning out to be. More like Casey being a total freak and not talking. And, dude, when has Casey ever had a problem talking? "Okay, so let's see... You're not going to jump me, and you've made no moves to kill me yet. I have to admit I'm confused. I really don't get what the bathroom has to do with anything unless you wanna wizz, and in case you haven't noticed... and you should have, by the way, because God knows you've seen me naked enough times to know that's not true... I'm not a chick. I don't do the whole peeing together in groups thing," I pointed out in my immense boredom, staring dimly out into space. I was rambling, even, but Casey didn't notice.

Sighing heavily, I pushed myself off the counter and walked over to the now-hyperventilating Casey. She must be really distracted if she didn't hit me for insinuating that she remembers what I look like wet and naked. I grabbed her and shook her pretty hard. Her arms latched on to me in an attempt to steady herself. "What's your damage, NutCase? You're not stroking out on me, are you?" I could've been meaner, but I didn't want to be too much of an asshole. I was getting pretty pissed off, though, with the way she was wasting her time. Casey just had to look all... scared and vulnerable then, and I kind of completely forgot my anger. Nevertheless, I swallowed hard and made my voice sound harsh, "Spit it out already, Case!"

She swallowed hard. Her eyes looked awful teary, and that made me nervous. I'm a mess around crying girls, you know? Then she held her head high, blinked back the tearlets (which I was all too thankful for), and slowly opened up her purse, pulling out one box, which she placed on the counter, and then another and another. There were three boxes in all, and all of them contained, I realized with horror, pregnancy tests. It took me even more aback than what she told me before. I know I shouldn't have been surprised by that, given she told me that she thought she was maybe pregnant, and Casey is the type who loves to overanalyze everything and figure things out to death... But it made it, I dunno, real to me.

The fact that she actually has pregnancy tests shows that it was a distinct possibility. But I couldn't write it off anymore, y'know? Clearblue Easy, one read. Error Proof Test, said another. Answer, was the last one. Even the names were so Casey, you know? Of course she'd want something error-proof, and duh, she wants answers. She spoke, even though no speech was necessary by that point. "I'm serious here, Derek. I've got to take these tests. I'm gonna do it. I have to find out." I would've rolled my eyes if I still didn't feel like a truck hit me in the stomach. As opposed to what, not finding out until you gain a lot of weight, and it just slips out of you one day?! Casey and pregnancy tests, let alone her needing to take one, are incompatible.

Plus then there was the image of a chagrined, embarrassed Casey actually buying the tests, no doubt undercover, probably wearing those huge sunglasses, a hat, a trenchcoat, and that blonde wig of hers. Because that's how she would do it, of course, because she's not one of those girls, those sluts that get looked at like the tramps they are when they buy preggo tests. She picked up the boxes, one by one again, opening them, removing the test sticks that made me squirm and carefully reading the instructions.

Because, um, ew. Does she expect me to stay here or something? 'Cause I really don't want to. I mean, doesn't she have girlfriends she can do this sort of thing with? Or Planned Parenthood clinics she can visit? Where's Emily when you need her?! Figures, the one time I really want Emily around, she just... isn't. I forced a smile, but I really felt a lot like I was gonna be sick. I mean, why the hell am I even still in here?! It's not like I'm getting anything out of this except an increased hunger. And whether that hunger's for Casey or food, well, I don't entirely know...

It's not a good train of thought. I'm not her damn boyfriend, okay? I mean, she's made that pretty damn clear. And, c'mon, do I really want to be Spacey's little boyfriend? No. Of course not. That's nuts. It sucked except for the sex, basically. Which is still not something I need to think about. But, gee, does she need me here for moral support or something? 'Cause, really, even the school nurse would be better, I'd think, at this point than her... ex-whatever.

The nurse would also prolly actually want to be here because Casey has that tight little ass... Damn. And she'd want an excuse to touch her, of course...

WHY THE HELL AM I STILL HERE?!

If her ass is up the spout, with a bun in the oven, and a bad case of the Egyptian flu, preggo, nant-nant, knocked-up, eating for two, expecting a little visitor, even more hormonal than usual, up the kite, got a bellyful, up the pole (as a result of someone's pole), dynamite in the sack, in a delicate condition, carryin' around some major extra weight, well on her way to becoming a U.F.O. (unidentifiable fat object), with child, gestating, incubating another living human being, housing a future person, occupied uterus, holding in her evil, cursed spawn, up the duff, enceinte, fully fecund, gravid, parturient, pupped, stuffed like a turkey at Thanksgiving, storing some serious baggage in her trunk, ready to pop, ready to drop, storing an egg in the dragon's nest, overfull, developing new life, fertilized, scrambling eggs inside of her, being a sperm reservoir, stitching together a genetic code in her womb, pleine, looking like she swallowed a watermelon whole, soon-to-be-a-mother... then why the hell isn't SAM here?!

I'm not gonna play the baby daddy in this situation. She's got to tell him herself. "As much as I would like to watch you pee on a stick to determine whether or not you've got a passenger, I'm gonna have to pass. Why don't you text me the results later, and I'll try and really screw up to make the 'rents go easier on you, okay?" I drawled coolly, trying to find a way out. The offer was surprisingly generous on my part, but Casey didn't see its merit. Casey glowered at me, and I rolled my eyes. What the hell does she want from me? She's not exactly being communicative here. I mean, I get that she's worried and all whatever, and that's affecting her, but does she really have to be this flippin' confusing? "What, Casey, do you actually want me to stick around?" I retorted somewhat irritably. I stopped cold when she looked down, and I realized that she actually did. "You actually do."

Huh, not what I was expecting...

Holy freakin' cow. That kinda left me speechless.

But, Derek, I had to remind myself, it doesn't mean anything. She probably just doesn't want to be alone. She wants someone, anyone to hold her hand, and she doesn't care if it's you. You were just the first person she could find. But if she didn't want to be alone, why not get Emily or someone else? Why not Sammy? Why me?! I swallowed hard. Her eyes were getting all teary, and she gets really hard to resist then. "Why?" I demanded. Casey didn't answer, just held the tests and stared down at them. Not even gonna give me a reason? "This isn't my place, Casey. It's not my job to do this, to be here. So why don't you go get your loving boyfriend instead?" I stated firmly. She'd made it painfully clear to me where my place was.

I swallowed down painfully over the lump in my throat, forcing a smile. "After all, I'm just your brother," I muttered bitterly. Nothing ever happened. I never kissed you. I never touched you. I never slept with you. We never made out. We never had sex. We never had a relationship. We never had anything. You never wanted me, and I never wanted you. I never loved you. It never happened. I never was anything more than your stepbrother. Isn't that what you want, Casey?

Screw this. I am outta here. I turned on my heel, heading for the door. Casey threw the tests down on the sink and ran after me, grabbing my arm and whirling me around. She forced me to look her in the eyes, and it was weird because she didn't look vulnerable and uncertain and needy like she was supposed to. A fire was burning in her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and for a moment she just stood there, stock still, still holding my arm. I grew tired of the waiting fast, but I decided briefly that if she wanted me to stay so badly, she must have some sort of reason. I stared her down levelly. "Give me a reason, Casey. Give me one reason why I need to be here, why you need me here... and I'll stay."

Her eyes darted down, and she swallowed hard. I shook off her arm. Fine, no reason. Her loss, not mine. I moved to leave once and for all that time, until Casey reached out again suddenly and pulled me to her. I blinked in astonishment as Casey pulled back just a little to look me in the eyes. Her eyes were a clear, eerily serene blue, negating her turbulent, dramatic state of mind. "Because if... If I'm pregnant... It's yours," She half-blurted, half-stuttered. My jaw dropped practically to the floor, and I shook my head, unable to believe it. Mine?

I know we had sex, but how is that even possible? Logically I know it is, but it just... doesn't make sense. It can't be me. Mine. Whatever. I mean... The last time was, what, a practically a month or so ago?

"But you're dating Sam. You're with Sam," I repeated numbly, trying to draw back away from her. As if the reasons why the kid, if it existed, couldn't be mine were obvious. We were in an awkward sort of half-embrace, with her hands on my shoulders, her body pitched forward on her tiptoes. I wanted to shake her off, but she held fast. She was biting her pretty pink bottom lip, too, in that way that always made me want to slam her up against a wall and make her forget her name.

I'm no sucker. I'm not just gonna believe her immediately because she thinks I'll be the better guy here or whatever, and, really, why would she think that? Because I actually love her and we already live together, so, what, I'd be obligated to care for the little sucker?! Or, what else, did Sam reject her or something? Is that why he asked me that stupid question today?! It'd flatter my vanity, but I'm not dumb enough to believe it. Casey gave me an expectant look, like I should readily accept her admission and know what it meant. Sometimes I think she forgets she's talking to me.

I just gave her a blank look, and she rolled her eyes. Then she cleared her throat and glanced away somewhat embarrassingly. "Sam and I have never... been intimate." Cue a blink here. I mean, I think I see what she's getting at, and it makes sense, but my mind doesn't quite grasp it. Sensing my confusion, Casey looked over at me again and huffed out a sigh. Her grip tightened on my shoulders. "I've never had sex with Sam," She admitted unwillingly, looking up at me, willing me to comprehend.

Blinking dimly, I just gave her the same dull look. "So that means I'm... what?" I managed dazedly. "The last guy you slept with?" The thought was staggering and incredible.

And, God, Casey nodded. She let go of me, leaning against the counter, heaving out a sigh. "The first, the last, and the only guy I've ever slept with," She confessed wearily, crossing her arms over her chest. She was staring into space, looking more vulnerable than I'd ever seen her. She knocked all the breath out of me with that statement, and I kind of felt like I was choking on my own saliva. I couldn't really blame her for not wanting to seal the deal with Sam. That would be hard. Plus Sam would've totally bragged about it... I just assumed, you know? But she had said there was someone before me, and it had sort of seemed like that could be true... Don't get me wrong, I know the difference between a virgin and a non-virgin... but every girl's different, right? But I guess... not.

I just stared at her in awe as the fact that I was the last one to touch her, the only one that knew what it was like to be inside of her. It was so hot to know that no one else had touched her, made me feel like she was still mine. I walked over to her, grabbing her shoulder softer than I intended. She looked up at me with watery, unhappy eyes. "Say that again," I demanded in a low voice. She blinked in confusion and sighed again. I waited impatiently.

But she seemed to know what I wanted. We locked eyes for a minute before she nodded and looked away. "You are... you were the only one," She mumbled awkwardly, avoiding my eyes. And there it was to her, ended there. I could've kissed her for it. Casey cleared her throat anxiously. She missed how my eyes shut for that one moment, how it stretched on for me like an eternity, how I absorbed the words, let them soak in, and enjoyed that moment. She didn't see the immense self-gratification flicker over my features. Nor did she note how my eyes darkened like old whisky, and she failed to perceive the feral glimmer there and know it for what it was, a form of ownership. She either didn't care or just didn't notice. Typical. She's got those Casey-goggles on as usual, and if she doesn't want to see something, she just doesn't see it. "Don't let it go to your head," She added somewhat sternly.

I was not so unaffected. Needless to say, I stayed. My dad, as neglectful, indulgent, often idiotic, and clueless as he is, didn't raise me to be a total asshole. Just because I'm spoiled and stubborn and used to always getting my way doesn't mean that I'm not a gentleman. When I try. I do, as a rule, generally treat women right. I might not be a chevalier or anything, and I don't hold open doors or do any of that garbage to try and prove chivalry isn't dead... I pay for my dates, show 'em a good time, respect 'em if they deserve it, and I'm not abusive or violent. I don't make them do anything they don't want to do, and I have standards and stuff. I don't take advantage of drunk girls, for instance. And I'm all about full disclosure. No woman ever gets me into her without knowing what she's getting into (that being said, of course, there are some who get confused, like Kendra, but I really couldn't be more clear if I tried!). With the exception of Casey. You see, I might be the exception to all rules, but she's the exception to all of mine.

Casey bit her lip, looking at me, tests in hand. Knowing her, she'd probably memorized the instructions to all of them already. "So you'll wait for me?" She asked in a voice that wavered dangerously. I realized suddenly just how much she really needed me there, and for the first time I was glad she'd picked me instead of Sam. I just nodded slowly. Suddenly it didn't seem to matter if I missed lunch. There were bigger things at hand. I kind of didn't trust myself to talk because what could I possibly say? I just knew I'd wind up making an ass out of myself, like always. What was I gonna say? I'll wait for you forever?

Or something ridiculously cheesy (but disturbingly too close to home and too close to being true) like that?

At any rate, Casey smiled faintly and motioned to the stalls. "I'll just, uh, be a minute or two," She told me, walking towards the stalls. I just nodded, afraid I would do something idiotic or say something sappy and ruin everything. She paused upon reaching the door and turned back to look at me, biting her lower lip. "So, Derek... what happens if I'm pregnant?" Casey asked in a little rattling voice. Her grip on the door shook a little. She didn't look prepared to be a mother. She couldn't be pregnant. She just couldn't be.

Then you're pregnant, I guess.

I didn't want to even contemplate it, and I couldn't even understand how Casey managed to think of it for even a moment. "I don't know," I admitted honestly. Casey froze, turning pale. She suddenly looked even more nervous, like an excitable rabbit, you know, the ones that tremble and claw and thrash when you touch them. I was afraid she was going to make some comment about me being an asshole and how she never should've trusted me with this, call me a child or irresponsible or insist that she'd raise it herself, and how could I be so inconsiderate, and she was wrong to ever sleep with me... And so I spoke before she could. I wanted to reassure her. "But if you are... we'll work things out, okay? I'll support whatever you want to do. I'll be there. I'm... not gonna turn my back on you. Or the kid. If there even is one," I supplied awkwardly. For a moment, I thought I'd grab her hand or something, but I pulled my hand back at the last minute, thinking the better of it.

This odd look passed over her face, and I hurried to amend my statement. Wow. I... shouldn't have to think about this kind of thing. "Not that I wouldn't be happy if there is one, but I'm just hoping there isn't one... Because I get that you're scared, and, truth be told, this scares the living crap out of me..." I muttered, really hoping I didn't sound like an idiot. Of course, I did. Casey just turns me into this buffoon, you know? Okay, so maybe some of that's a lie. Obviously I don't want to be a father at this point in my life. Clearly. I don't even know if I want to procreate. But, I mean, how could I really react if she was pregnant? Couldn't say "no, I don't accept that" and shove the bundle back into her arms, you know? So I really hope that she's not pregnant. Really.

Casey surprised me by letting out a loud, high laugh. I frowned at her. Great. Now she thinks I'm some sort of laughingstock? As if she didn't already, when she rejected me? As if sensing this, Casey clapped a hand over her mouth, giving me an apologetic look. "It's just... I never thought I'd see the Mighty Derek Venturi afraid. Or not at all smooth." You and me both, Case. Even I'm not that fearless. I shrugged, hoping to play it off. I don't like to admit it... but I'm seriously off my game here. I don't... I feel like some weak, insecure, unsure, indecisive little nancy boy. I don't know anymore, and I don't like feeling like this. Like I've been knocked over, or something.

Psh. I never thought I'd live to see the day Derek Venturi was basically whipped. Or the day I'd fall in love, much less with Casey freaking McDonald. But here we go. Life is stranger than fiction.

She did look relieved, though, like it made her feel better to know that she wasn't the only one freaking the hell out. I just... hide it better, keep it under control. Or I try. Since when is she so calm about possibly having my baby? Shouldn't she be a complete emotional wreck here, instead of all quiet and weird, given that she's carrying the spawn of Satan, as she would say? "Never thought I'd see a teenage Casey McDonald taking a pregnancy test. Or screwing me," I replied with an offhanded shrug. It was the wrong thing to say, though, and she glared at me fiercely.

Could've been worse. She could've hit me. I deserved it. Instead she merely started wringing her hands, finally looking distressed. "Dear God, why did I ever sleep with you, of all people?" She muttered half to herself. I'm not going to lie and say that didn't hurt, but it hurt less than I thought it would. She continued half-talking to herself, and I watched with a little smirk. It was a nice bit of relief from the sudden serious weight of the situation. "I mean, Derek Venturi? What was I thinking?!" Her voice rose to a high, dramatic pitch, burgeoning on her being ridiculous. "Clearly I wasn't thinking!" Now she was pacing. My eyes were having trouble following her.

Haven't we been over this already? Hmm, wonder how long this ill-timed freak-out of hers is going to last. After all, I do still want to eat, and I'd preferably like to know if I'm a father before. Because if I am, I'm probably going to run to the toilet and vomit. Plus I'm sure we don't have much time left alone here. Someone's going to come in the bathroom, see everything, and wonder what the hell we're doing in here together, and that'll lead to unwanted questions... which means I'll probably have to either distract or bribe someone. Can't Casey just freak out later? I mean, she slept with me over a month ago. Now is not the time for a freak-out.

She was still muttering to herself like an idiot and pacing and wringing her hands, so finally I just exhaled and marched over to her, grabbing her so she'd stop moving like a freaking butterfly or something. "Casey, let's just get this over with. Just take the tests already... so we'll know," I ordered, steering her back towards the stall and practically pushing her back in it. Casey's mouth closed in surprise. It was one of few times in my life I've ever seen her speechless, and I was kind of relieved since her voice was a-grating on my nerves. She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Okay. Okay," She repeated numbly. "I'll do it. I'm going..." Casey slowly walked into the stall but stopped just before closing the door. "I'll just be a few minutes. Do watch the door, Derek. I'm sure neither of us wants anyone walking in on this," She replied coolly, just a second before shutting the door. Maybe she is pregnant. The girl sure is having moodswings! One minute she won't talk to me, then she's being dramatic, then she's spazzing out, per usual, and then she's all cool and collected. I'm never going to understand this chick.

Nevertheless, she had a point, so I did as she said, standing by the door watchfully. Surprisingly, Casey felt like talking as she was doing it. I really didn't want to think about what she was doing, though I could hear her peeing. I always hate that, by the way. So she starts talking about some lame inane things, and I'm not listening. She could probably sense this from my noncommital responses, so she said something else, knowing I probably wasn't listening. "I'm sorry about what I said, you know. I... I guess I'm glad it was you. I could've done a lot worse than you," She admitted quietly. There was something that sounded a lot like genuine regret in her voice.

What she said affected me a lot more than I thought it would, after so long. I wanted to see her face as she'd said it. She'd kind of apologized before, but I couldn't really believe it. There was always some emotion tainting it, anger or bitterness or embarrassment. Never really sympathy. I wanted to say something back, but I didn't know what I could say. A part of me just wanted to leave it all in the past, but I really couldn't. It didn't matter, though. A few moments later, however, the toilet flushed, and Casey left the stall, clutching the tests.

Glancing at the door one last time, I turned and walked back over to the sink. Casey had already set two of the tests down. "Here, take this!" Casey said, thrusting the last test into my hands. She turned back to the sink and began washing her hands. I suddenly realized she'd peed on the stick I was currently holding and hastily dropped it. Casey whirled around to scowl at me. "Der-ek! Pick that up!" She hissed irritably. She pulled an egg timer out of her purse, setting it for five minutes, all the while still scowling at me.

"Hell no, Woman! You peed on that stick! That's just insanitary!" I exclaimed. Casey rolled her eyes at me.

"Oh, grow up, Derek. You might be a father," She scolded, bending down and picking up the test. I enjoyed the view but obviously not her words. She set the test on the counter and once again washed her hands. I stared at her blankly, unsure of what to do. As if sensing my state of mind, Casey replied, "Now... we wait. We'll know in five minutes." She was acting as tough as nails, but she looked like she was about to chew her nails, which, of course, is a disgusting habit that she doesn't adhere to. Funny. She used to say the same thing about me. Gah. Five minutes? Seriously? That might as well be an eternity.

So I decided that it was basically my job to somehow distract her. And myself. So, naturally, I did what I do best. I was kind of an ass. What else is new? I moved closer to Casey rather predatorily. She was leaning against the counter, tapping her nails against it impatiently. Her posture was straight and stiff in a way that made it clear she was already uncomfortable and uptight (what else is new?). It's my duty to shake things up, so I moved in smoothly. Smirking, I leaned in closer to her, knowing it would make her feel uncomfortable, but in a way she knew how to handle. She could just push me away. It's kinda a lot harder when there's possibly a kid involved. That's a little messier to get rid of.

"So, I was your first, then?" I murmured conversationally, smirking. Okay, so maybe I was feeling pretty damn smug about it. I mean, you don't expect me to not say anything about it? Might as well relish it. Predictably, Casey's eyes shot up from the tests and over to me.

"Don't gloat," She hissed. "But yes," She conceded mere seconds later. I basked in the glow of my achievement. You better bet I didn't listen to her and kept right on smirking. Casey glowered at me, but I didn't let that phase me. After all, out of all of the guys, she said yes to me. She begged me to have sex with her. I'm not going to forget that. I'm not going to forget that I was the first and last and only guy she's ever been with, that I'm the only one who knows what it's like. That I'm the only one who has ever had her purring in my ear. That my name's the only one she's moaned. That I'm the only one who's touched her. So I'll gloat if I damn well please.

I remembered what she had said earlier and decided to comment on it. "You're the one who said you were glad it was me," I pointed out smugly. Casey made a face, probably regretting it already. Can't say I blame her. Your words will incriminate you. I know that a hell of a lot better than she does.

Casey nodded distantly. "I did say that." I thought she was going to take it back. But she didn't. "I was," She affirmed, offering me a weak smile. Okay, I really don't get this girl sometimes. I mean, what exactly is she glad about again? I keep getting the feeling it's that I was gentle and usually patient, and, most importantly, good in the sack... So, wait, does that mean she isn't glad now that it was me? Man, there's really too much to worry about here. Casey is such an emotional rollercoaster and a whack job.

She, like myself, was struggling for words. So I found myself interrupting and speaking for her. "Why?" I blurted suddenly, burning to know. In truth, I didn't really want to know, but I couldn't stop myself from asking. Casey's eyes widened at the question, and she bit her lip. She stayed like that, quiet like that, for a long time. I thought she wasn't going to answer.

Case cleared her throat, holding her neck up and eying me as if to judge whether I was fishing for compliments. I wasn't. I just wanted to know, and for want of anything better to do, I'd actually asked. Casey shrugged, wrapping her arms protectively around her middle again. She tilted her head to the side and looked over at me. "Because you cared," She told me in a weak voice. Her eyes darted down immediately afterward. "And I guess I was flattered. Because no one had ever wanted me like that for me, you know? They all just wanted my body or the boost to their egos or... whatever... and when they didn't get what they wanted... that was that. But you stuck around, even when I was a total bitch, and you were still nice to me when you could've rubbed my face in it like I deserved," Casey admitted slowly.

Not that she looked up at me. It was both a surprise and a relief and, at the same time, a swift pain, to hear her say these things. I hadn't expected it, but I'd wanted to hear it. Only now that I had, it didn't sound as good as I'd imagined. The words were awkward, too casual, not at all up to her level. Casey sighed. Her arms wrapped ever tighter around her waist, constricting herself, as if binding herself in, commanding her waist to remain the same size, commanding herself not to be pregnant. She glanced up at me briefly through her lashes. "And I guess I kind of respect you... because you tried to stop it, and I can't blame you for not stopping, not really. It's not fair to you... This whole mess is my fault."

Now that was a stunner. I gaped at her for perhaps a solid minute. I had never really known she felt that way, per se, but I'd always secretly suspected it, and now that she was exonerating me. Still, I wanted to reassure her, you know? Because it does take two to do the horizontal tango. This whole separate lives thing... it's a lot harder than I realized. Because our lives will be forever entwined. Whether either of us likes it or not, that's the way it is. And in some respects we lived more separate lives when we hated each other than now. Fate just likes to keep throwing us together, I guess.

"It wasn't just you, okay, Casey? I was a complete asshole, and I'm sorry for that. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of. A lot of awful, unacceptable things, and I deserve to be punished for them. Honestly, I'm lucky you didn't press charges for anything I did to you... extortion, assault, rape... I'd probably deserve anything you could level at me," I said. I never felt guilty before her, but now, these past days, I've felt guilty about every last little thing. I keep thinking about how each thing must've hurt her, and that hurts me. Let's face the facts... I've blackmailed her, treated her horribly, tried to humiliate her in any way possible, spread lies about her, was certainly too rough with her, and I practically forced her to have break-up sex with me. Our "relationship" might very well be classified as abusive.

And whose fault is that? Mine.

What I did weighed on me more than I care to admit. Because undoubtedly I messed her up. Getting involved with a guy like me messes a girl up. I know that. I'm not ignorant of it. And a girl like Casey? Even worse than the others. I mean, even a seasoned veteran's at risk with me... but Casey? It's a wonder I haven't completely destroyed all her ideals and ideas about romance.

Casey shook her head and looked at me again. Her tone was serious. "I can't let you go on blaming yourself for everything. I had no right getting involved with you when I knew I didn't feel the same. I knew there was next to no chance of me ever returning your feelings... and still, I led you on! No, what I did was worse than that!" Casey exclaimed, becoming more emotional and effusive as it went on. She looked distraught. I'm sure I looked like a statue, but hearing her say it like that.... hurt. Next to no chance. Ouch. I wondered whether she was right.

Her hands clenched into fists, and she was grasping, flitting from thought to thought. "I was just so mixed up and confused... My head wasn't in the right place... And you were there, and you l-lo-l..." She began, faltering only when she met my eyes and was unable to say it. As if mentioning it meant the breaking of some secret rule. I was kind of glad she didn't, though. In the past it had been so easy for her to level that against me. Casey cleared her throat, trying to make up for her misstep. She made sure to enunciate the beginning of her next statement, though the words gave her trouble.. "You were fond of me... for whatever reason, and, I don't know... I didn't want to hurt you, to crush you, to let you down... because you had been so good to me... and I somehow thought that telling you the truth would be worse than a lie," She explained in a woe-stricken, desperation-laden tone. Were those tears in her eyes?

I'd never thought of it like that because it had always seemed to me like more of a revenge thing, and I was inclined to believe she'd done the whole thing out of cruelty rather than misplaced kindness. But apparently that's what it was... That and fear.

She blinked hard, like she was blinking back tears, and it made me feel bad because I was the source of that. "Because I didn't want to just be some slut! And I wanted to be with somebody because then I wouldn't have to stand on my own and figure things out... So I used you instead. I used you, Derek. And that wasn't right. I was with you because... because I liked the way it made me feel," Casey shouted. Oddly she said the last comment as if it was the greatest sin. And then her hands were flying through the air, and she was shaking, and her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were wet and bright pink, but her eyes were still hard and stubborn but also guilty and pain-stricken... and she was too damn beautiful.

Of course I knew that she used me. I'd as much as accused her of it at the time. So why did it bother repeating? Just to reinforce how not okay it was? Just another slut is what she meant, though. She didn't want to be a notch on my bedpost... which she would've been if she'd just had the one-night stand with me. I guess. Girl logic doesn't always make sense.

And then I was speaking. The words poured out from my mouth almost against my will. I couldn't have stopped them if I'd tried. "I'm glad you did, though, as sick as that is. Otherwise I would've never known what it was like... and I'm not going to regret it, any of it, as flawed and messy and unbalanced and screwed up as it was," I proclaimed in a low, grim voice that was half-groan. And it was all true. Because it was worth it. It really was. And, for the briefest, shining moments, it felt like it was reciprocated... and it's good to know what that's like.

I'm a better person for it, really. At that moment, I wanted to touch Casey, to put my hand on hers or something reassuring because I didn't know what the hell to do when she was a wreck like this. Never did and still don't. This is why I mistakenly slept with her the last time. Man, that was stupid. But definitely worth it... mmm, good. The memories are practically enough to subsist on. Except that they're not realities. So I didn't touch Casey.

However, I did move closer to her. She didn't move away. I wondered how to comfort her. As I fumbled with these thoughts, of course, the freaking egg timer went the hell off. What wonderful timing. Casey offered me a tight, nervous smile. Her whole body looked strained, kind of like a violin with the strings tuned too tight, like they would snap if pressure was applied. "Time to find out if we're parents." It was meant as a joke, but it didn't come out like one. To think, in only a couple of seconds, my whole life could change.

Would it be for the better or for the worst, I wonder? Casey moved to turn around, but my hand shot out and covered hers before she could. Stupid, stupid me! Why on Earth did I do that? She froze, and I started to seriously sweat it out, but then she visibly seemed to relax a little under my gaze. Her smile softened a little, became just a little more real. If we'd been holding hands, she would've maybe squeezed mine, but I don't know. Either way, she turned a moment later and picked up the tests, looking at each one.

I didn't bother to look over her shoulder. That would've been creepy. Instead I watched her face in the mirror. At first she had a surprisingly convincing poker face, poring over those tests, but then she slowly started to relax. She frowned coming to the last one and set it down with shaky fingers. Her hand slipped out from mine finally. I was just kinda glad she hadn't told me to let go. Then Casey seemed to shake it off and leaned over, pressing down on the soap dispenser, lathering up her hands, and rinsing off the soap. I knew before she said it, but I needed to hear her say it. "So, Lamby-Pie, are we pregnant?" I questioned almost mockingly, so cocky and sure of the answer, sure I was pissing her off.

She dabbed at her eyes with the backs of her wrists and let out a half-hearted laugh. I graciously handed her paper towels to dry off her hands. She quietly thanked me and threw them away before turning to face me once again. I cocked an eyebrow like I didn't know. I needed to know for sure. "According to two of the three tests, I'm not pregnant... I think that the one you dropped gave the false positive, and that's what I think it is. If... if the other two tests are wrong, I'll, um, let you know," Casey told me, exhaling heavily like it was this great relief. And it was. I'm sure it was a great relief that she wasn't pregnant with my kid. Especially to her.

Me, I didn't really know how to react. She might as well have said "Congratulations, you're NOT going to be a father." Not that I want to be one or anything, again, but it'd be Casey's kid, right, and I like her well enough, so I suppose it could be decent... Casey blinked at me in confusion, surprised at my utter lack of a reaction. You and me both, honey. "Aren't you going to jump for joy? You won't be tied down by a kid in the future. You can go on doing what you want..."

Sometimes, Casey, we want to be tied down. Not that I told her that, of course. Doing what I want gets sour after a while, especially when I can't do what I want the most (or rather who), which is, again, of course, her! She was even more weirded out by my continued lack of a reaction either way. I guess she thought I'd be vocally expressing my thanks or something. "I can show you the tests if you don't believe me..." She offered hesitantly.

I felt rather than saw her look at me and studiously ignored her. Not too well, though, apparently, because I was still watching her out of the corner of my eye. I shook my head slightly, indicating that I didn't want to see the results, and Casey nodded dutifully, brushing the evidence off the table and throwing all of it in the trashcan. She washed her hands again, twice, soap and everything, and covered up the boxes and test strips with wet and dry paper towels. She did all of this without saying a word to me. I didn't speak either. I was wondering about what my life could've been.

Had the test gone differently, not that I wanted it to. Still, I felt kinda like I lost something. But how can you lose something if you never had it in the first place? I don't know, but that's what it felt like... Or maybe it just reminded me of exactly what I'm lacking? Forced me to face it, even.

"Are you okay, Derek?" She asked me uncertainly. Damn. She's looking at me funny, like I'm the one with the problem here. How's that for irony? Like she isn't the one who was just a complete nervous wreck. Like she isn't the one who just found out that she's probably not pregnant. And just a probably. Not even a for sure, you know? Because that one test said positive. She still doesn't necessarily completely know for sure. All of the sudden it's like nothing freaking happened again... And I can't do it.

"Yeah... I'm fine," I replied somewhat dazedly. No, I wanted to say. I'm not. I haven't been okay for a while. I haven't been okay since I fell in love with you. And I certainly haven't been okay since you broke up with me. God, I hate that flipping word. I am not okay. And I don't want to be not okay. I mean, I want to be okay. And I'm not not okay from a lack of trying here or anything. Damn, why does this have to be so hard?

"Is something wrong, Derek?" Casey asked in this sweet, sensitive little voice of hers. No, of course not. I'm just warring with myself here. Don't you see I'm perfectly fine? She gingerly put one of those little, delicate hands of hers on my shoulder, and it felt like she was tearing my insides apart. Her concern is killing me. Her eyes were bluer than ever and prying into my business, and it was just too much because she was so close, coming closer. It was off-putting, and there was a recent time when that had been all I wanted, but not now. Don't rub my face in it, Case. Oh, I wanted to shove her away and run out of there, but I couldn't do that. Not without looking like a madman.

And, if she was actually pregnant with my kid, then I'd be the asshole father who pushes the mother of his child around. I don't want to be that kind of guy. I'm not that big of an asshole. "No," I lied abruptly. I was awful proud of myself; I was able to do it staring her right in the face. At least she hadn't asked what was wrong. Because then there was no way I could get out of it. The truth would just spill out.

I miss you.

There it was.

There was a strange tension in the air, something awful eerie about it, and the whole moment was still. The bathroom was silent, and we were both just there, staring at each other like a bunch of spooks, both of us afraid to end it. But I knew the moment couldn't go on. So I ruined it by loudly clearing my throat, trying to snap back to business. But my heart wasn't in it. Oh well, doubt that she noticed. "Um, so now that my presence here is no longer required, I guess I'll just be going now," I said awkwardly, inwardly cursing myself for sounding so transparent, so off-guard, so out of sorts. I'm not supposed to be like that, and not around her. She will remember and exploit my weakness. I can't hesitate.

But still, I didn't move. I eventually tried to step around Casey, but she put herself in my path and blocked me. I wondered what on earth she meant by that. "Lunch, remember?" I tried instead. "A growing boy's got to eat!" But it didn't come out the way I wanted it to, smug as all get out and cool and blowing-her-off. Nevertheless, I tried to walk around her, and this time she didn't get in my way. I walked past her, refusing to allow myself to look back at her, knowing she would catch me staring.

I could feel her gaze burning a hole into my back, but I didn't deign to check. What good would knowing do? "Oh, Derek?" She inquired, raising her voice a little so I can see her. I didn't turn to look but gritted out a grumpy "what?" instead. Her voice wavered, and I could tell her resolve weakened some. "Just... This incident... never happened, all right?" OF FREAKING COURSE! Why the hell didn't I see that one coming?

At that comment, my fingers slipped so hard they fell off the lock entirely. I'd already been having trouble, but my concentration was just shot after that. I hated myself already for the ready reply I knew I was going to give. "You got it, Dear. It's over and done with. My lips are sealed 'til the grave." My fingers still fumbled with the lock, which stubbornly refused to come undone. Great, well, that blows my grand exit, now doesn't it? It was almost like... Almost like someone didn't want me to leave. Almost like it knew. Eventually, however, the lock gave way to my superior fingers (as they always do), and I opened it just a crack, looking out for an angry line of girls... but I saw nothing. The hallways were deserted. And, ladies and gentlemen, that is my cue to split.

But (it's like I'm torturing myself or something!) I turned around and saw Casey. She wasn't looking at me any longer. She just looked sapped of energy, drained, and tired... even a little sick. But there was a thin smile on her lips, a smile of relief and victory. She'd been through hell because of me. I felt the urge to say something in parting, but I didn't know what the hell to say. I mean, what can you say after an experience like that? See ya later, not my baby mama? I mean, really. They ought to write books for etiquette in these situations. That way I wouldn't be such an inappropriate ass all the time.

Shrugging, I tried to just wave it off. "You should really try to clean yourself up a bit, BasketCase. You look like you've just spent lunch crying in the bathroom. People might get the wrong sort of ideas about you," I quipped a bit too coldly. She was, after all, still vulnerable from her pregnancy scare, and I'd forgotten that. I'd forgotten how much a girl like Casey prides herself on being in control of her life, and how she'd lost and surrendered so much of that control lately. The smile dropped off Casey's face, and the vain girl hurried to the mirror to peer herself over to see if what I'd said was true. It was slightly true. Her eyes were red and a little puffy, and she looked like a hot mess.

But still hot, damn it.

It was disheartening that she didn't even turn around to glare at me. Whatever. I don't need her. Bitch. "Smell ya later, Cuddles." I paused, pushing the door open further. "If uh... The results of that test were, um, flawed... and you really failed it... I'll be in touch. You know where to find me," I elucidated in a rare moment of softness. Casey's head whirled around to look at me.

Stunningly, she managed to crack a smile. Despite my asshole-ness. She just rolled her eyes, shaking her head at me. "Yeah, I know. I'll see you at home, Dreamboat," She retorted with a hint of sarcasm and that freaking sexy half-smile that made me want to shoot myself. Then she shooed me out, and I was only too happy to oblige her.

I stood out in the hallway for about a solid minute afterwards, stock still. Because had that whole thing really just happened... or had it? And everything was topsy-turvy and mixed up and still so unsure. I felt like I'd been running in circles or something. I was still in the exact place I'd begun. I still wasn't wholly sure what went down, but all I knew was that it had greatly retarded my progress. I've seriously got to get over her before I become even more pathetic and out of control. It's flipping embarrassing.

God, why isn't there a Casey rehab?

Well, as the alcoholics say... one day at a time, right? Guess that's how I have to take it.

Loren ;*

Reviews are greatly appreciated. And they make me excited!

Oh, by the way, I've got this new fic, if anyone wants to check it out. Sorry, lame self-plug, but hell, I might as well. It's Lizwin (in high school, all grown up and all), and I get if you're not into that thing... but don't let that be the reason you don't look at it, you know? Because people have said they're not into that pairing, but they read the fic and it made them like it/believe it... So give it a chance, maybe? It's called Strange Attractors, and I think it's pretty twisted. Or at least, complicated. Chaos theory, secret admirers, thunderstorms, sleepwalking, unrequited love, rumors, guilt, flashbacks, unresolved sexual tension, questions Edwin can't ask and Derek won't answer... and that's just a tiny peek of what it has to offer. Anyways, I just updated it today also, or, rather, last night... so if you're bored and wanna give it a look, feel free.

Happy holidays, everyone!