Bliss

~*~*~*~
WARNING: Non-con situations/aftermath, heavy angst
DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything in "The Faculty" universe. Just my own twisted up version. ;)
~*~*~*~


i will eat you alive
i will eat you alive
i will eat you alive
i will eat you alive

there’ll be no more lies
there’ll be no more lies
there’ll be no more lies
there’ll be no more lies

-Radiohead, “where i end and you begin”


~*~


It was dreary out; spring was just starting to show its face in the form of dank, earthy smells in the night. That was the first thing Casey noticed when he got out of the car, helped by his father. “Thanks,” he mumbled, getting a grip on the roof of the car to steady himself. “I’m all right, I can do this,”

“All right,” Mr. Connor said, grabbing Casey’s bag from the front seat. Mrs. Connor went ahead of them and opened the front door. They all walked inside, Mr. Connor hanging Casey’s bag on the coat rack by the door. Casey went to attempt the stairs and found it quite difficult; Jesus, he hadn’t thought of this… “C’mon, let me help you get up,” he offered. Casey merely nodded and took the support of his father’s strong arm, holding it and letting it guide him to the top. Once there, Mr. Connor followed him to his room. “Miranda said you might need help getting dressed. Do you want to change into pajamas?”

“Yea,” Casey said. As Mr. Connor began rifling through the drawers, Casey watched him carefully. He hadn’t said much apart from “Hello”, or “Need help?” this whole time. “Dad?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you mad at me?” Casey asked. This stilled Mr. Connor’s movements, his head rising up from the clothing search. He put a hand to his neck as he turned, eyes flickering up at Casey then back to the floor.

“Do you know how angry I am, son?” he asked, his voice clouded with hurt. Casey swallowed hard. This was it; all his father’s disappointments, his want of a strong able-bodied son who didn’t get raped in his own bed. “I AM angry. But if you think it’s been with you, then I apologize,”

Casey blinked, lips parting slightly. “You’re not?” he asked, causing Mr. Connor to frown in disbelief.

“Why would I be angry at you? No, I’m angry that this was DONE to you. Yea, DONE, Casey,” he said firmly. “After Zeke told us what happened, God, Casey… God, I wish you would tell me who it was. I’d have their neck in my hands and I wouldn’t let go.”

Casey looked away, unable to handle the intense look his father wore now. “What would you say… if… you knew…”
“I really don’t care what I do or don’t know.”

“Listen…” Casey said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms. “Dad… I’ve been… seeing the guy who did this to me.” He admitted. The silence filling the room was heart stopping; Casey could hear the distant chirping of crickets outside, echoing off the walls of his room as if they were bombs instead of insects. Finally Mr. Connor cleared his throat.

“Casey… sit down, please,” he said. Casey walked over to the bed and moved onto his side, groaning as he tried to relax his body to lie down. Letting out a shuddering breath, he felt his father sit down on the bed, his weight making his body bounce slightly. “So… does this mean… you like boys, not girls?” he asked with a nervous swallow.

“I think so.” Casey softly replied. “I dunno.”

“All right,” Mr. Connor said in a matter-of-fact way. He slapped his hands on his knees and patted them, his breaths coming out long and hard. “I can’t say I’m all that surprised, honestly. I’ve always- just known you were different.”

“Okay.” Casey said.

“Why won’t you tell us, Casey? Why? We’re your parents, and we want to keep you safe,” Mr. Connor said with desperation. Casey took a deep breath, swallowing and closing his eyes.

“Because I’m afraid, I’m so fucking afraid, Dad,” he admitted; normally he’d be berated for cursing, but it didn’t seem to be the time for that.

“I’M afraid too, Casey. I’m afraid this jerk is going to come back, and if we don’t know who he is… Christ, how could we stop him?” Mr. Connor lamented. Casey’s head shook from side to side.

“He won’t come back,”

“How do you know that? Jesus, if he had no sense today, he might’ve tried to come to the hospital to see you, or worse,” Mr. Connor said; this made Casey’s eyes open. Oh Christ.

“I don’t wanna go to court over this… I want to just… deal with it my own way.”

“And how IS that, Casey? How have you dealt with the bullies at school all these years? You’ve just LET them beat on you-“

“I didn't LET this HAPPEN!!” Casey suddenly cried out, grabbing his knees and folding into himself. Mr. Connor looked to him with an expression of shock.

“Casey, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it like that. Christ, I didn’t mean it,” he reassured, putting his hand on Casey’s arm. “All right. I’ll stop questioning you. But I want to know Casey, and I want you to tell me. Now c’mon, let’s get you dressed.”

Casey stayed on the bed while his father arranged his clothing for him. He felt like a small boy again when the dressing began, watching his father wince at the marks on his body. He didn’t care, not anymore.


~*~


Casey had to admit that he’d been starving, having only choked down half a cup of gelatin that afternoon. His mother’s homemade chicken soup was never all that great, but it was something. He would have much preferred something heavier, but… well, the doctor’s instructions were pretty clear. “Very light foods, lots of liquids,” he’d instructed. It was also nice that he got to enjoy dinner in bed, just watching some random sitcom on TV.

His mother was coming up the stairs now; he could hear her talking on the phone. “Zeke, c’mon now- don’t you have school tomorrow? I’d not like you to be failing because of… well, I’ll let you talk to him. Don’t expect a note from me to your teachers,” she was saying as she came to the door, looking amused. “It’s for you, hon. Zeke,”

Casey nodded and took the phone from her. “Hello?”

“Hey. What movie do you want to watch tomorrow?”

“Huh?”

Zeke sighed into the phone. “What movie- do you want to watch- tomorrow?”

“Um… why?”

“I’m bringing a movie over, and I was thinking of ‘Terminator 2’, but wasn’t sure if you liked that one. It’s kinda the only one I have that doesn’t get stuck in the VCR,”

Casey had to smile. “So you’re coming over?”

“Did I stutter, Case?” Zeke breathed out, making Casey chuckle.

“T2 is fine,”

“Cool. Anything else?”

“Um…” Casey started, thinking. “Applesauce.”

“Applesauce?”

“Hell, it’s ONE thing I can eat. I happen to like it, a lot.”

“Okay then. Arnold and applesauce it is.”

“Cool.” Casey said. “So um… tomorrow then?”

“Yup. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. See ya,” Casey said; he hung up the phone and smiled, putting it on his nightstand.


~*~


“Honey? I’m going to work.”

Casey’s eyes fluttered open, still sleepy-eyed. He was very thankful for the sedatives he’d been prescribed, knowing the pains would have kept him awake. After a full night without them, his whole body was tense and aching. “Ow,” he moaned out in reply. Mrs. Connor came into his bedroom, a glass of water and pills in her hands.

“Come on then, have your meds,” she told him. He took them eagerly, wishing they’d work immediately. As he put the glass on his nightstand, Mrs. Connor ran her fingers through his hair. “Zeke said he’d be by around eight-thirty. I’m glad you’ve got such a good friend in him… even if the idea of him skipping class isn’t really my cup of tea.”

“He’s like that, Mom,” Casey mumbled. “If it wasn’t me and my problems, he’d skip anyways,”

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t make this a habit,” she said, standing up. “The fridge is full of anything you need. Just remember not to overdo it.”

“Yep,” Casey grumbled back.

“I love you, honey.”

“Love you too,” he returned. With a smile she left, heading downstairs. Casey lifted his head from the pillow and looked towards the clock; 8:09, it read. He decided to try and get out of bed, hoping he’d have the strength to get a shower started and climb in…

“Oh GOD.” He nearly yelled, having to move back down on the bed. It was much worse than the day before; pain shot through him like a bullet, straight up his spine and into his brain. He gritted his teeth in frustration; so he was going to have to wait for Zeke to show up and get him out of bed? Furthermore, what in HELL was he going to do about a shower? “Jesus Christ,” he muttered angrily.

The minutes ticked by slowly to Casey now, waiting for Zeke to arrive. Hopefully his mother hadn’t bothered to lock the door, though he feared she did. She wouldn’t want “unwanted” people to just walk in unannounced. The thought of that made Casey shiver slightly; after all, Will had come to the hospital. What could he have wanted, Casey wondered. He had to have known that Casey wouldn’t have been alone, and even if he HAD been, what could Will have done in a building full of people anyways? Now however, he was alone. Very much alone.

The door downstairs had opened; Casey sighed with some relief. “Zeke?” he called.

“What?”

Good, good… “Good morning,” Casey yelled. He now heard Zeke tromping up the stairs and down the hall, getting to his room.

“Hey,” Zeke greeted him. Casey groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Any chance you can help me out of bed?”

“Yea, sure,” Zeke said, walking over. He took the blankets off and rolled them down and then moved to Casey’s arms. “Here we go,” he grunted out as he lifted him fully off the bed. Casey grasped onto Zeke’s shoulders, wincing and breathing quickly. Even with the medicine in his system now, it was only starting to dull the persistent aching. “You all right?” Zeke asked, getting him to his feet. Casey huffed out one long winded breath and nodded.

“Yea,” he said. He blinked profusely, staring down at his feet. “Um… I’d wanted a shower, but… I’d need help,”

“Okay,” Zeke casually replied.

“You don’t have to,” Casey said. “I can just wait until tonight,”

“Case… seriously, don’t worry. You haven’t got anything I don’t,”

Casey nodded slowly, going to his dresser drawers. He figured the easier the clothes, the better. Deciding on a well worn pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt, he and Zeke went out the hall and to the bathroom. Casey’s face felt red hot as they walked inside, feeling guilty and embarrassed. “I’ll just need… I can’t do some things…”

“Yea…” Zeke drawled out while raising an eyebrow. “That’s why I’m here, Case.”

The matter-of-factual way Zeke spoke gave Casey some comfort, though not much. He decided to just get it done and over with; he took off his shirt, careful not too move too fast as any movement along his back seemed to go lower than he liked. “All right,” he mumbled, looking down. “I can’t really- bend all that much.”

“That’s fine,” Zeke said, sitting in front of Casey on the toilet. He helped in getting the pajama pants down, Casey closing his eyes as he did. Once they were at his ankles, Zeke moved his feet out and stood up again. “Lemmee get the water for ya too,” he said, moving to the shower. Casey crossed his arms and sighed, sliding his foot over the tiled floor. Anything to offer distraction as he watched Zeke start the shower, adjusting the water temperature. “How do you like it?” he asked.

“Usually scalding… but the doctor said I should go with lukewarm,” Casey told him. Zeke nodded and finished, putting his hand in the warm stream of water.

“Feels good enough.”

Casey stepped forward, grabbing onto the towel rack for support as he climbed in. The pain from these movements slipped away once he was under the water, making him sigh with relief. “Nice,” he mumbled out as Zeke shut the shower door.

“Want me to wait out here?”

“Might be best,” Casey replied, grabbing his washcloth. He could see the mangled vision of Zeke through the mottled shower door going to sit on the toilet, grabbing up one of his father’s magazines. It was silent for a moment, just the steady rush of water spilling over Casey and into the tub. He grabbed the shower gel and squeezed some into his washcloth, aching to be clean. He’d had a shower yesterday, yet right after his body had dried, he felt dirty all over again. It would probably be the same way after this one; it made Casey scrub relentlessly at himself, trying his best to be careful while getting the job done.

“Do you ever sing in the shower, Casey?”

Casey looked through the door again, blinking and frowning slightly. “Huh?”

“Do you…?”

Casey had to chuckle a little. “Sometimes.”

“Oh yea?” Zeke said, chuckling as well. “I do too. I get really loud.”

“What do you sing?”

“U2,”

“U2??” Casey said, laughing a bit louder. Zeke put his head back.

“Yea, and what do YOU sing then, Sinatra?”

“Actually…” Casey said, a fit of giggles escaping him. “Sinatra.”

Now Zeke all-out bellowed with laughs. “Yer shittin’ me.”

“No. Though I usually sing it with my own words.”

“Really now? Do it, indulge me.”

Casey scoffed, rinsing off. “Oh, come on.”

“No, no, no. Do it up, Connor.”

“Ugh… fine,” Casey said. He cleared his throat as he got the shampoo and started scrubbing. “‘When I was seventeen- it was a very shit year…’” he started; Zeke’s smile was so wide he could see it through the mottled glass. “’ It was a very shit year, for small town boys the size of a stamp… their heads would get clamped… under heavy cleats… when I was seventeen…’”

“Fuckin’ HELL,” Zeke yelled, raging laughter overcoming him. “Keep going, keep going…”

Casey smiled, embarrassed but intrigued at Zeke’s reaction. “’When I was twenty-one, it was a much better year; it was a much better year for college-bloomed dorks who ran into those jerks… they all worked as clerks… tipping cows for their fun… when I was twenty-one.”

“Casey, that’s fucking funny,” Zeke said. Casey rinsed out his hair, smiling.

“Well, that’s all I have anyways.”
“It’s good. You’ve got a pretty good voice, too.
”
“Pah,” Casey sputtered out.


~*~


In the past, Casey had complained to Zeke about being a hard-nosed pain in the ass, who never quite let go of himself enough to just express himself. Right now however, Casey realized just how useful that sort of attitude that could be.

With Zeke, he didn’t have to answer uncomfortable questions. If Zeke read him well enough, he would just drop the issue and talk about something else. While watching his very scratchy version of ‘Terminator 2’, Zeke went to make popcorn; only it wasn’t the microwave kind Casey’s parents kept on hand for their movie nights.

“You brought a popcorn popper?” Casey said, aghast as Zeke brought it out from the car. Zeke looked at him as if he’d just come out of a time travel orb himself.

“Are you kidding? It’s the only way to make popcorn,” he said, looking to the fridge. “Got butter in there?”

“Yea,” Casey said, slightly amused. As he got it out, Zeke looked back to him.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had it like this.”

“Well yea, when I was a little kid.” Casey scoffed out. He brought the butter over to Zeke, who proceeded to cut a few wedges of it.

“It’s best fresh like this. All those microwave bags man, they ain’t got shit on the real thing,” Zeke said, looking into the now melting globs of butter in the popper. He poured some salt in as Casey watched on, entranced. Zeke noticed the look he wore and smiled wryly. “I’m not performing brain surgery here, Case.”

“Well God, it’s been years since I’ve done this. Reminds me a lot of being a little kid,” Casey said, smiling warmly. “My dad used to go out and get a movie for us to watch. My favorite was ‘Flight of the Navigator’,”

“Oh, that’s a classic,” Zeke murmured, now pouring the kernels in. He put the cover on and leaned on the counter, looking to Casey. “For years, I’d say ‘compliance!’ whenever anyone talked to me, about anything.”

“Hah! I did too,” Casey admitted, chuckling a little. “I SO wanted to be David. For about a year I would turn my room upside-down just to try and make it look like the ship. My mom kept telling me to stop stealing all the sheets from the hall closet, but they worked so well.”

“Too bad,” Zeke said. “I never did anything like that, really. I DID walk around with my hands out, pretending I was controlling the ship and running top speed.”

“Yep, yep,” Casey said, nodding along. “Funny that, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Well… here we were, pretending to be friends with an alien…” Casey drifted off slightly, picking at his thumbnail. The popcorn just started popping, making Casey look up with a sigh.

“I know,” Zeke said. “Would have been better to have someone like Max, huh?”

“Yea,” Casey breathed out. “Max was cool.”

“Damn straight.” Zeke murmured. As the noises kept growing, Casey leaned forward, staring at the countertop. He began tracing a line in the wood absently, sighing deep.

“I’d told Stan, the night of the party- I kinda wished Marybeth had just… done it. That I hadn’t done anything to stop her,” Casey said. “I don’t think that’s changed, even with his talking about… things, having to do with being taken,” he stopped a moment in speaking, glancing to Zeke. “You think I’m crazy.”

“No,” Zeke said, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “Not at all, Case.”

“Zeke?”

“Yea?”

“What did you… think of me? Before Marybeth, meaning?”

Zeke took a long breath, tapping the counter with his knuckles. “I thought you were a pitiful fucking dork that needed to just make ONE punch, and you wouldn’t be bothered anymore. Even if you didn’t succeed in hurting whoever hit you. Just one punch, one signal that says ‘leave me the fuck alone or else’. Honestly?” Zeke said, turning to look at Casey, who felt his face growing warm.

“You haven’t been blunt so far?” Casey mumbled, staring at his twiddling fingers.

“I hated you.”

Casey looked up quick, frowning. “Hated me?? Christ…” he said, standing upright. He growled a bit at the pains, starting to pace to work his muscles around. “You didn’t even know me.”

“What was I supposed to know of you that you didn’t show everyone?”

“So do you STILL hate me?”

“Absolutely not,” Zeke stated blankly. “Y’now why? Because you actually, FINALLY stood up for yourself. Say what you like now about Marybeth. Everything changes in retrospect, Case. We all start to wonder about the things we threw away, if we wanted to save it and keep it; if things would have been better if we did. But what you did was phenomenal; you showed no fucking doubts at all about what you wanted. Plus, you had to do it alone. I was out, Stokes was just plain GONE, and what did you do? Did Marybeth take you just like Gabe took you?” he said, making Casey shoot a glance of warning his way. Zeke shook his head. “No, it wasn’t your fault, Case. I’m not saying you could have stopped him. But you’d had enough. You didn’t want it, so you didn’t take it. Basically, you showed Gabe and the whole school who was boss. I noticed how everyone started backing off from you, and it wasn’t your dating that cunt Delilah. It was you and what you did- for everyone.”

Casey stopped his pacing, just as the popcorn finished. Zeke took up a bowl and opened the popper, tipping the contents into it. “Now let’s eat real fucking popcorn. Can you?”

“Yea, I think so,” Casey said, following Zeke back into the living room. He felt somewhat stunned by Zeke’s revelations into things, before and after. Casey began wondering why he hated him so much before… oh. Yea…


~*~

Casey couldn’t remember falling asleep; the last thing he recalled when his eyes opened into slits was that they’d finished the popcorn, and Arnold had shot up the police barricade. Now however, all he saw was blue. Blue?
Casey opened his eyes wider; his eyelashes made scratchy noises against something. Realizing that the blue encompassing his sight was some sort of paper, he sighed, reaching up and picking the post-it off his forehead. It read: “Case- realized I forgot the applesauce. Getting another movie too. Be back, take your meds. –Zeke”.

Casey had to smile, looking over and seeing his two pill bottles sitting on the coffee table. “’K, Dad,” he mumbled as he got them out for himself. After taking them he lay back down, sighing deeply. He began thinking hard on the events that transpired in the late morning, with Zeke’s ‘before’ thoughts, the strength behind the words he gave. To use the word ‘hate’ in any context was possibly one of the strongest things anyone could use; it made anyone it was directed to stop and listen, wondering why they were loathed and disliked. Casey had to admit however that he too had harbored a great dislike towards Zeke, and wanted to find out reasons… he hadn’t joined football to play football, but then what was the sense of it?

Before Casey could continue on with these thoughts, a knock came from the door. He smiled and shook his head, moving up from the couch as smoothly as he could then shuffled to the it. Zeke must have locked it, the dumb shit. “Should’ve taken a key,” Casey called, opening the… unlocked door.

Now his whole body froze; there on the porch was Will. “Casey,” he murmured, visibly shaken. “I… I…”

Casey’s lower lip shuddered, his head starting to go from side to side slowly. “What are… w-what are you doing here?” he hissed. Will bit his lip and sighed.

“I’m so sorry, Casey,” he said, his voice jumbling the words fast. “Casey, I can’t even… I can’t even begin to explain myself. Are you… all right?”

Casey’s jaw tensed, making his teeth ache from the force he provided. “What the hell do you think?” he asked. Will closed his eyes as Casey breathed quick, folding his arms in front of him. “Why did you come here? Fuck that… why did you come to the hospital?”

“Wha… Zeke told you, I suppose.”

“I saw you, Will.” Casey replied. Will blinked furiously, staring at Casey in confusion.

“Oh… was your room…” he started, but bit back anything he was going to say. “Can I come in? I just want to talk to you. Just talk.”

“No.” Casey said.

“Please, Casey, we need-“

“NO.” Casey said, more firm this time. “Say what you want to say and leave.”

“I JUST want to talk to you! Do you honestly think I’d do anything after what I did??” Will said, sounding like he was growing angry. Casey put his hand on the door, but only to brace it against his foot.

“Zeke is with me today.” He said, secretly relishing the quick flash of panic in Will’s eyes. “He’s not here now, but he’ll be back, and soon. So say… what you want… to say.”

Will opened his mouth slightly, though it was silent a moment; Casey watched as Will’s face seemed to try to speak for him, until finally he breathed out long and hard and opened his eyes. “I just wanted to come and make sure you were all right,”

“I’m not. If that’s all you came for, then-“

“I’m sorry,” he interjected. “I’m so sorry this happened. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Casey retorted. Will’s upper lip twitched slightly as he frowned.

“You didn’t give me much choice, Casey,” he said in a darker voice. “Do you even realize… by God, Casey, you can’t just throw off your clothes and expect-“

“Expect WHAT?” Casey shot out with, interrupting him. “A fucking guy to not even spit in his hand?? For God’s SAKE, Will. That could have taken five stitches out of the picture,”

Will’s face fell, throat making a loud swallow. “I’m sorry,” he said. Casey went to nod and moved back, ready to shut the door before Will shot out, “Did you tell anyone?” Casey stopped his movements, his face forming a heavy frown.

“What?”

“Did you… tell?”

Casey’s lips parted in disbelief. “I can’t… oh my fucking God,” he scoffed out with sarcastic laughter. “You could GIVE a shit, couldn’t you? Fuck this ‘sorry’ crap; you just came here to make sure your ass was covered!”

“No! No, Casey, it isn’t like that-“

“DON’T… don’t… fuck with me. You’ve done enough of that already,” Casey snarled out. “I can’t believe you…”

“Have you??” he asked, unabashed. Casey glared at him and swallowed.

“No.” he replied coldly. Maybe Will couldn’t help the sigh of relief, and it made Casey angry. Angrier than he’d been this entire week; all the tension, frustration and anger was swelling to an insurmountable peak. Suddenly it hit him; he wanted control? Well fuck all, he’d have it… “But I plan to.”

Will’s eyes widened. “What?” he said in an empty tone.

“My dad is working on a case. The police haven’t gotten involved yet, but the hospital collected enough evidence to let me file a criminal complaint. Zeke was the one who brought me, so they thought it was him. A test proved it wasn’t,” Casey spat out, watching Will’s expressions go into a large range of emotions.

“Do you… this could ruin us. BOTH of us, Casey; I came here…” Will stammered out, swallowing repeatedly. “I came to apologize, and to hopefully make amends. I don’t… we don’t need something like this.”

“How would it ruin me??” Casey asked, incredulous. Will gave him an appalled look.

“How would it- Casey!” he said. “How can you expect to keep this from the public eye, ESPECIALLY in court?? Do you even KNOW the torment you’d suffer at school??”

“I’m not going BACK to school, Will,” Casey said, realizing he was growling the words out angrily. “And even if I was, so what? I’m ‘the boy who saved the world’. If I went back and they fucked with me all over again, the teachers wouldn’t turn a blind eye to it like they always did. But seeing as I’m not going back, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Casey… oh my God…” Will stammered. “Casey… I’m begging you. I’ll do anything,” he said, putting his hand forth towards his shoulder. Casey flinched away like a threatened animal.

“DON’T fucking touch me.” He said. “Don’t you fucking dare touch me. You gave that up when you turned my sheets red.”

“I’m sorry,” Will said, barely whispering. “What can I do, Casey? Please tell me, and I’ll do it,”
Before Casey could answer him, a loud rumble of an engine came from the end of the street. He’d know Zeke’s car anywhere. He didn’t even have time to give any sort of warning as Zeke’s driving got him anywhere fast, and proved it in getting in front of the house within seconds. Will’s head snapped around to look, his face paling as Zeke parked the car.

Casey looked into the car, seeing Zeke looking over himself. Zeke didn’t move for a moment, his eyes staring out the opened window up at the two of them. He shut off the car and stepped out slowly, carrying a small bag in one hand, his keys in the other. Casey didn’t know what to expect; judging by Zeke’s pure, undiluted anger at the hospital, Casey was sure that he would run up and grab Will by the collar to throw him off the porch and into the sidewalk. Instead his eyes kept staring as he approached the porch with slow, calculated steps. Will was the first to break the silence.

“I didn’t come for trouble.” He said in a rush. Casey bit his lip, seeing both of Zeke’s hands going into fists, knuckles white.

“It’s all right, Zeke,” Casey interjected. With Zeke still staring at Will he climbed the stairs.

“You sure, Case?”

“Yes, Zeke. I’m sure. He just came to say he was sorry,” Casey told him in a calm voice. “And I told him I’ll see him in court.”

Now Zeke’s stare was interrupted to look at Casey, his jaw lowering slightly. “Good.” He replied softly. He was now right in front of Will and crossing his arms. “Good.”

Will was defeated, and as much as Zeke added to this pressure, it was Casey’s unrelenting stance that now made him practically run off the porch, desperate to leave. He got to his car and went in, starting it and leaving Casey’s street in a maddened rush. Both he and Zeke watched until the car disappeared among the houses and trees; Zeke then turned to Casey and lifted the bag. “I um… got applesauce,”

Casey smiled. “All right.”

“And…” Zeke went to add, reaching into the bag. He pulled out a video and smiled. “I figured we could get all the sheets we can find; hang out with some NICE aliens for once,”


~*~*~*~
TBC!