crash into me

Piper shook her head violently, fast enough that it muffled the words Casey was speaking. It was the only way she could think to drown them out, other than clapping her hands over her ears and singing at the top of her lungs until they were inaudible. “We’ve been through this,” she huffed, clenching her jaw until her teeth ground together painfully. “It’s all just pointless. I don’t want to do this anymore.” She wasn’t sure what the this she was referring to was. All she knew what that she was tired and drained and so, so sick of the horrible, consuming pain that never quite left her, no matter how hard she tried to push it away. 

“You don’t have to say it. It’s written all over you. You can try and psychoanalyse all you want. You know exactly why I said it.” She wasn’t sure how Casey could deny it when the next words out of her mouth had Piper on the defense. She didn’t look at Casey. She didn’t want to anymore. “I never said you could telepathically read minds. Jesus fucking Christ.” Her frustration was rolling off of her in waves, her voice hitching higher the more she spoke. “It was how I wanted it to be. Doesn’t mean it was a good idea. But nobody gives a shit if it made things worse or not, because it was easier when I was away. When you didn’t have to deal with me.” She finally looked at her again, her face an expression of disbelief. “Did you think I haven’t noticed that? Do you think I don’t know that there’s nobody left in my life? Or does it just make you feel good to point it out? I’m not stupid and I’m not blind. I’ve been on my own for months, and you being here is just reminding me why. I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, other than make sure to kick me when I’m down, but I want you to go. Just go. I would rather be on my own than listen to you pat yourself on the back for putting up with me.” 

It wasn’t exactly admitting defeat, but Casey knew that for now, there was nothing left for her to do there. There was obviously wasn’t anything she could do to convince Piper that she cared despite how deeply she did. She couldn’t fix something that wasn’t willing to be. She wanted to, but it was just one of those things beyond her power. Piper was right in the fact that for now, anything else said would just be wasting her breath. “Alright then,” she nodded as she got up to her feet. “But just know that all this? This doesn’t have to be your life. You deserve good things, Piper.” She wasn’t necessarily happy to go; Casey knew that there was so much more beneath the surface than what had just happened, but right now, it was pointless and would only hurt the both of them more if she stayed. She was only human after all. She knew it wasn’t fully about her, but you could only hear your own life’s failures being thrown in your face so many times before it felt too personal. 

She didn’t leave right away. Instead, she did something that she knew could warrant an immediate lash out. She was still Casey, though. She would have time to be angry with Piper over what she’d said later. Right now, it wasn’t in her best interest to hold on to that, especially when she was the only one in that room on steady ground. There was no stopping the next move as it happened. She slowly walked over, stopping only inches away from her before reaching over and cradling the girl’s face between her hands. Her thumbs automatically moved to wipe away some missed tears on her cheeks. She then leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Her voice was only louder than a whisper as she said, “I love you, honey.” With that, she backed away, spinning around and adjusting her purse over her shoulder before she was out the door and quietly shutting it behind her.

No matter what Piper threw at her, Casey was hitting it straight back. She couldn’t stand it. She wanted a reaction, to be called names or cussed out or anything. The fact she wasn’t doing that proved what she thought all along. Casey didn’t care. If she did, she would be doing those things, be responding to the things Piper was saying with any sort of genuine reaction rather than looking down at her from up on her high horse. Piper thought she had known anger. Since her mom’s death, it felt like the only thing she was able to really, truly feel. But this rage was something else, something that stirred from deep inside of her. It was all consuming, and at this point, she didn’t know how it could be put out. Definitely not like this. 

“Save it for therapy,” she snarled. “At least you have a family. At least you have something. What have I got except stupid, shitty, pointless fucking letters?” Would it give her validation? Piper didn’t know. She didn’t know what she was looking for anymore. The type of pain she felt was something that could never be fixed, and so what was the point of wanting anything? She might as well give up. “Are you done?” her lips pursed, her eyes narrowing in Casey’s direction. “Then what’ll it take, Casey? What’s it going to take to get you to stop looking down your nose at me like you’re so much better than I am and leave me alone? If you really gave a shit, you would have done something a long time ago. You didn’t, though, and trying to make yourself a martyr for sitting here and listening to mean, nasty, cruel old Piper? It doesn’t make anything you’re saying true, no matter how long you sit there.” 

“You have me.” It was a simple statement, one followed by a shrug, something that was seemingly becoming Casey’s signature move as she sat there. Outwardly neutral, even when that was the opposite of what was going on inside. “And I’m sure you hate that and don’t believe it. You don’t have to, but I wouldn’t be sitting here and taking all this if I didn’t love you or care about you, Piper. I could just leave you to rot,” she casually stated, whatever emotion that was visible there being flipped back very fast, “and I hope that’s not the case, but I can do that if you really, truly want to be by yourself right now.” 

“I’m not better than you, and I’m not exactly sure why you’re insinuating that. These are all your statements, Piper. That’s not coming from my mouth. You’re projecting a lot of different things on me right now, and if that makes you feel better about all this at the end of the day, then so be it. Did you want me to fly to Vegas and get you? Is that what you were hoping for? Because I can’t telepathically read minds, and I can’t read radio silence either. None of us heard from you, so we assumed that that’s how you wanted it to be. Nobody can change that.” She sighed, finally showing evidence that this was wearing on her. It wasn’t like she couldn’t take it. It just wasn’t fun. “So you tell me. I'm not the one calling you mean, nasty or cruel right now. In fact, I’m only doing about a quarter of the talking, and I’m honestly not sure how many other people there are around, willing to listen or take what you’re dishing out. Like I said, I can stay and listen, or if you want, I’ll leave right now. Up to you.”

“Stop patronising me!” Piper pointed her finger at Casey, trying to ignore the way it shook obviously as she did. It was worse. It was a million times worse than being yelled at, then anything she had thrown at her so far. She didn’t want Casey to stand there and try and be nice to her. She’d spent months wanting nothing more than for someone to show her even the smallest crumb of decency, but now she had it, she had no clue what to do with it or the horrible, crushing feeling it brought with it. “Call me a little cunt. Tell me you hate me. Hit me. Anything but keep screwing with me. I can’’t stand here and listen to you say you care about me when it’s all just bullshit.” She wasn’t sure if she was arguing with her or begging her at this point. By now, everything had gotten so muddled up. She didin’t think anything would ever be clear to her again. 

“Then why did you write it? Because you had a guilty conscience? Because of some stupid promise you’re doing a terrible job of keeping? What was your intentions, Casey? How am I supposed to have read a letter that told me I can come home and not think it was okay to come home? Or are you telling me that I’m fucking stupid now, too?” The tone of voice had Piper quieting for a moment. Only a moment, though, before defensiveness roared back up inside her. “Well, it’s clear I don’t belong in anybody’s life in any other capacity. I may as well be the butt of everyone’s jokes, in that case.” She shook her head violently, rejecting everything Casey was saying. As much as she claimed to, she didn’t get it, could never possibly get it. “Yeah? Tell me more about the time when your mom died and everyone conveniently forgot to give a shit about how that might have made you feel? How it felt to know everyone was rallying around your brother and leaving you out in the cold? To come back after fucking months away to realise that it was better for everyone when you were away? Can you do that, Casey? Or are you going to try and tell me that your husband leaving you is the same as all of that? Don’t you dare try and compare your situation to mine.”

There were a million thoughts whirling in Casey’s head. The thing was, Piper was being a cunt. She was completely out of line, and there was a tingling sensation in her palm when Piper urged to be hit. It went away pretty quick, though. That wasn’t who Casey was, even if the girl was too blinded by rage to see it. There was no point in a counter argument because Piper wouldn’t hear it or would twist her words, and she wasn’t going to fight someone who was swinging for the sake of being able to do it. For a good chunk of the time, she remained silent and motionless. She only moved to take a seat as Piper spouted off again. This time, however, despite feeling a pang at the Landon jab, it was different. As she listened and watched, taking in her tear streaked face and trembling hands, it was actually pathetic, uncomfortable, and most of all, sad. Casey reached up, carefully tucking a piece of hair behind her own ear before replying.

“No, I can’t, but I can tell you about the time my best friend died and all I had the power to do was watch as the world fell apart for my family and hers.” She chose not to give much more to it than that. She didn’t need to. “As for everything else, would that give you the validation you want? If I say and do all those things? Because I can, but if honesty is what you’re looking for, Piper, I’ll be honest and say all of that would be pointless. It won’t change what’s happened, and it won’t change me still being here. So go ahead. Let’s hear it. If you have more nasty, cruel things to send my way, be my guest,” she said, her arms open. “Tell me I’ve failed as a mom, wife and best friend. Shout it from the balcony, let everyone know I’m a fuck up who can’t keep promises. I’ll listen to it all night if that’s what’ll make you really feel something, but it’s not going to drive me away.” 

Casey’s nonchalance did nothing but make Piper angrier. It almost felt as though she wasn’t worth a reaction. Maybe she wasn’t. She honestly couldn’t say what it was that she did or didn’t deserve any more, though if what she had gotten lately was anything to go by, the answer was nothing good. She wanted to scream in Casey’s face, to shake her, to claw at her skin until she drew something, anything, out of her, some sign that she was worth something more than stupid jokes about doormats and this patronising lack of anything, any kind of acknowledgement to her pain. If there was any truth to Casey’s words, if she truly didn’t have to be alone, she wouldn’t be, but that wasn’t the case. It was clear that she wasn’t forgiven for Miami, and none of the horrible things that had happened to her since then were worth any sort of empathy. She was stuck paying the price, a punishment for a crime that was wildly disproportionate, and yet everyone seemed to have taken it upon herself to make sure that she continued to suffer. 

“Don’t I? Don’t I have to be alone? Because it seems to me that if I didn’t have to be, I wouldn’t be here listening to more of your lies. I would rather be alone than have my head filled with stuff that isn’t even true.” The more she ranted, the louder her voice got, until she was nothing short of bellowing at Casey. “You’re right. I don’t want you here. So you can go home and pat yourself on the job for successfully pretending to give a shit about me, even though we both know that’s not the case. Good job. Well done Casey.” Her face felt hot and wet, and it was only then that Piper realised that she had started to cry. It was mortifying. Raising a hand, she swiped furiously at her cheeks, trying to remove any sign that Casey had gotten to her. “Just stop it. Stop talking to me like I’m stupid. It’s not if. You did make me feel shitty. You made me think that everything will be okay when it won’t. You made me think that there was actually something to come back to, when there wasn’t. You made everything worse, because at least in Vegas I knew what I was facing. I bet you’re all having a good fucking laugh about this, yeah? Fucking hilarious.” Piper squeezed her eyes shut, grabbing fist fulls of her own hair and clenching her hands until it was painful. She didn’t know how else to rid herself off this horrible, aggressive energy that was consuming her, without making her eyes water for reasons other than Casey’s stupid attempt at whatever this was. “You don’t understand it. You don’t understand me at all. You don’t have a clue what I’ve been through. And if all you came here to do was pretend that you do know, or make a show of acting like you’re going to be there, you’re wasting both of our time.”  

If it were any other day, Casey would’ve gone up to console her the moment she started crying. She wasn’t hoping to lose an eye this time around, though, so she kept her distance. “You can believe that if you really want, but I do care about you. What’s happening right now doesn’t change that.” She nodded a little, still mentally tiptoeing and keeping a steady voice as she replied. She knew that defensiveness wasn’t going to work, and she knew that Piper’s words, not being something she agreed with necessarily, came from a place of deeply rooted suffering. She wasn’t going to start an argument. What Piper was truly angry about wasn’t in her control. “Okay. I did make you feel shitty, Piper. The letter made you feel terrible, and I’m sorry. My intention was never to do that. Things are very different now than they were when I sent it, and I apologize for getting your hopes up. That wasn’t why I wrote it or what I wanted to happen.” 

The only time Casey’s voice took on a stronger tone came after the girl had finished her rant. It was a commanding force that usually accompanied a conversation she was extremely serious about something. Lindsey liked to refer to it a her ‘mom voice.’ She didn’t use it often, but when she did, she meant business. “Piper. Look at me. Actually stop and look at me. Nobody is laughing. I’m not laughing. I don’t think anything about this is funny or amusing. Why would I ever enjoy seeing you hurting?” Once she felt she had the other girl’s eyes on her for long enough, she went back to the steady, almost unaffected voice. With Casey, there was never a true monotone. It was still neutral, but little flickers of emotion worked their way through. “You’re right. I don’t know a single thing about what you went through in Vegas, but I know how fucking bad it hurts when your world is flipped upside down and you can’t do anything to stop it. I know what that pain feels like. I’ve lived that pain. You might think otherwise, but this isn’t a waste of time for me. I can’t control anyone else’s feelings, but I’m here, right here, right now, and I will be for the rest of your life, Piper, whether you want me to be or not. Like I said, you don’t have to believe that. You don’t have to believe a single word that’s coming out of my mouth right now, but I am.”

“Well then let me tell you to your face. Fuck off, Casey,” Piper spat. Whatever the reason she had shown up, Piper didn’t want to hear it. She wasn’t in the mood for some stupid lecture, or to shoulder the blame for driving David and Lindsey out of town, or whatever else it was Casey had come to tell her off over. It never crossed her mind that there could be any other reason that she could be  there. The entire world felt like it was against Piper now, and she found herself in a permanent state of defending herself from attack, a scrawny stray cat with her claws constantly unsheathed, ready to take a swipe at anybody trying to kick her when she was down. Her claws were definitely out now, and she eyed Casey with something beyond anger. It was disappointment and rage and betrayal all in one, and even being near her made her feel sick. 

“What did you do?” She repeated, incredulously. The fact that she even had to ask that was totally laughable, but when Piper did allow herself to laugh, it was a horrible, manic sound she had never heard herself make before. There was no humour in it. It was something closer to hysteria, in truth. “As if you don’t know what you’ve done.” Piper sniffed, one hand rubbing the back of her neck in her agitation. Even the lack of bite back was irking her. There was almost no reaction from Casey. Maybe she wasn’t even worth the reaction in the first place. “Hurt me,” she scoffed, as though the idea was ridiculous, even as the pain from it almost threatened to consume her. “As if you could hurt me. You or any stupid fucking letter. ‘Come home, Piper. We miss you, Piper.’” She blew out a huff of air, shaking her head. “It was all just… words. Pointless, meaningless words to screw with me when you could have just left me alone.” 

Young Casey would’ve been clocking Piper so fast for the incredible rudeness, but she wasn’t exactly young anymore. She’d also gotten to a point where she somewhat expected it, her only reaction being a small nod and simply saying “Noted.” She never told David to bring her back; that was his idea and his alone. However, she realized that her words likely had some influence on the follow through. She couldn’t change how people thought or felt. She wasn’t a magician. She was a pretty convincing writer when she needed to be, though, and it seemed that it didn’t work out in a way she could’ve predicted. 

She blinked, shoulders raising in a small shrug. She didn’t feel the need to repeat herself, though, instead giving Piper the wait time that was evidently needed. “Maybe hurt isn’t the right word, but there was an effect,” she stated. “If that’s what you really want, Piper, then I can do that. I can leave you to grieve on your own...but you’ve been alone for a while, and you don’t have to be. Obviously, you don’t want to not be alone if it’s with me, I get that, but...” She trailed off, trying to think of something smart to say, or something that’d at least get through to her. She let out a sigh when she realized after a moment that no matter what was said, she was likely to get backlash anyways, so she might as well speak her truth, no matter what happened. “But...I still care about you. My letter...it wasn’t meant to fuck with you. It’s not a magic wand either and it obviously can’t fix anything that happened, but that’s not why I wrote it. I’m sorry if anything I said made you feel shitty, because that was never my intention. I was trying to make it clear that I get the pain. I get the anger. Is it the same as I went through? God no, but...I understand it. You don’t have to believe me, though. It’s just a stupid letter, right?” Her lips pressed together in a line, her expression still quite neutral. ”Like I said, I’ll go if you want, but I’m only a phone call or taxi ride away. You can be as angry as you want with me. You can tell me to fuck off a million times and to go to hell where I belong. You can give me your absolute worst, but I’m still going to be here.”

Did he really look that bad? Rocco tried to remember the last time he had caught sight of his reflections and looked, really looked. Not just glimpsed while brushing his teeth, though in truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he had done that, either. his eyes drifted to the metallic toaster, and through the dust that covered it, his eyes found his reflections. It was a little distorted, but he could see what Casey saw, and understood for the first time what had piqued her concern. The circles under his eyes were practically purple, his skin sallow from lack of sunlight, his cheekbones gaunt. He knew the waistband of his sweats was a little looser than before, but he was at a loss as to when it had gotten to this point. 

“I know.” He leaned against the counter, suddenly tired again. It shouldn’t be this hard to stand on his own two feet. It had never been so hard before. But now even the little things felt like they had giant obstacles in the way. How was he supposed to function when he couldn’t even feed himself? “You don’t have to. Focus on me, I mean.” He winced a little, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but at the same time, feeling a little guilty that she needed to be there in the first place. “I know… I know that this isn’t your responsibility. Feeding me or getting groceries or whatever. I should be taking care of that myself.” He should be, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t motivate himself to do that. Even if he could drag himself down to the grocery store, there was no guarantee the credit cards would work. He hadn’t shown his face at the station since it happened, wasn’t even sure if he had a job to go to, and he wasn’t sure what happened to his mom’s bank accounts when she died. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about, and he forced all thoughts from his head. “I hate Cheerios,” His nose wrinkled, and he shook his head a little at the thought. “I, uh, don’t think I’d mind some eggs, though. Like scrambled eggs or something? I think I could do that.” 

Rocco nodded slowly. He supposed a few days wouldn’t make that much difference. Not in the grand scheme of things. Still, recent events had proven how quickly things could change in a few days. He didn’t feel like the same person now as he was a few days ago, and he was a different person again a few days before that. If leaving his siblings to their own devices, even for a few days, meant that he would be confronted with three strangers when he finally did catch up to them, he wasn’t sure he would be able to cope with it. 

The longer he searched, the more awkward it seemed that he wasn’t coming up with anything. By the time Casey put a stop to it, his cheeks were burning. She was trying to be kind, he knew, but something about it made him feel like a kid being scolded for letting his room become a mess. He couldn’t resist plucking at his shirt, bringing it up to his nose for a sniff when she brought up taking a bath, dropping it again only to shake his head. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I can… I can get groceries in. I’ve just… forgot.” The idea of eating pizza made him feel heavy. He wasn’t sure if he could stomach it. His brows furrowed as he blew out a huff of air. “Um, just get whatever you want. It’s your pizza. I’m not really that hungry.” He admitted. It wasn’t like he was trying to deny himself of food, but his appetite was so small that the thought of all those carbs was already making him nauseous. “Or just get whatever Lindsey and David will eat. You can take some home to them that way.” 

“Rocco,” Casey sighed, wondering what the magic words would be to get through to him. She wasn’t sure they were something she’d be able to scrounge up as she stood there. Time was a tricky thing, and it somehow felt like she didn’t have enough to even begin scratching the surface. Still, she had to try. She blinked, the hand holding her cell phone slowly dropping to her side when he brushed off the idea of pizza. Her lips pursed as she considered an alternative, a lightbulb practically going off over her head moments later. Pizza was too much, she understood that. She wasn’t going to leave without knowing he’d had something in his body, though, so she considered the most boring option of all. 

It wasn’t what Rocco wanted to hear, but he supposed it was as close as he was going to get for now. No amount of words could fix this, but although Casey wasn’t telling him the things he wished she could, she seemed to be able to say what he needed her to. It didn’t put everything back together, but it made a little of the weight on his shoulders lift. For now, that was enough. Even if he couldn’t think of anything else- how could he?- he nodded anyway. He wasn’t sure he was quite in a place where he could even talk about putting himself back together, regardless of how much it hurt to stay in pieces. 

When it came to his siblings, he wasn’t sure leaving them to their own devices was the right course of action. The thought of it agitated him. Caesar and Danny were maybe a little better equipped than he and Piper, but that didn’t mean it was right. “I don’t know,” he said, hesitantly. If she thought it was best, he would try and leave them to it, but that did nothing to soothe the biting anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He wondered, vaguely, if this would be a permanent thing now. If every time somebody wasn’t around, he would anticipate the worst. He had been in a different state entirely when his mom had died. Being away from the only family he had left was difficult to swallow. Until he heard from them again, he didn’t see that going away. He couldn’t put himself first, because he wouldn’t be okay until they were. He didn’t know how to vocalise that to her. When she brought up food, it hit him that he couldn’t remember when he last had a meal, or even a snack. He couldn’t even tell her if she would find bread that hadn’t started turning green in the kitchen. Oddly enough, though, the thought of grilled cheese didn’t stir any hunger in him. “I guess,” he muttered. “I might have to run to the store, though. I don’t know what we have.” He untangled himself from her, standing up to pad to the kitchen. His hands left fingerprints in the dust as he opened the cupboards, searching in vain for anything vaguely edible.

“Look, give it a few days. If the thought of them left to their own devices is still eating you up, then you try and get in touch. You just have to let them catch their breath. Everyone’s going through it right now, and they’ll reach out when they’re ready.” Casey wasn’t sure she fully believed that. Hell, as much as she thought she knew the Stone kids, what did she really know? She’d had to patch up some scratched knees and referee some sibling brawls, but she’d never seen them through grief. Unfortunately, it seemed that this was how she was going to learn about that side. She didn’t have Frankie to step in via Ouija board to guide her through it. This was a journey she’d have to take on her own, one step at a time. 

Nobody had the answers he needed. Not Casey, not Savannah, and definitely not Rocco. He had gone all his life looking to other people for the answers to his questions that he never stopped to think about what would happen when there wasn’t any. He wasn’t equipped to deal with the world if he had to figure it out himself. He knew himself enough to know that. He didn’t ask her for any more help, though. It wasn’t fair on her to continue to demand answers that she didn’t have. “Maybe,” he responded, but his doubt was obvious. “I just don’t know how it’s possible to make it to that point.  Not- not if it feels like this getting there.” He was trying. He really was, but there was only so much one person could take. He didn’t want to feel this hurt anymore. It was all too much. 

“I get it.” He did, truly. He wasn’t a selfish person by nature, but he worried. “But the thing is, I know that it isn’t what’s best for them. They just don’t realise it themselves.” Maybe Caesar and Danny would be okay, but he and Piper weren’t built to be alone. Not after the most devastating thing that had ever happened to them. Facing that alone could never be good for either of them. At least he had Casey here with him now, even if bringing up David and Lindsey made him physically squirm in his seat. Miami felt like a million years ago, but the dust still hadn’t settled. If anything, it had gotten even worse. If Frankie was still here, maybe things would be a little better by now. Instead, it made it even more difficult to talk about what had happened. It felt huge and insignificant all at the same time, and though he fucking missed his friends more than anything, he was leaving it in their hands if they even wanted him around, or if Piper had ruined that, too. Casey’s words brought him back to earth a bit. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he felt a little sheepish. It was more of a telling off than he expected, and he cast his gaze downwards the way he did as a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Just in case you did,” he mumbled. He couldn’t deny that he needed her there, but he didn’t want to feel that need. He didn’t want to put other people in that position. It wasn’t fair, and he knew it, but the selfish part of him didn’t care. As long as he didn’t have to be on his own anymore, he would have to put up with his discomfort. “Don’t go,” he confirmed with a small nod. “I don’t wanna be by myself again.” 

“Of course you don’t. You shouldn’t, now right now anyways. You will, though. You’ll find your way. Try not to think about that too much for now, though. When it’s meant to happen, it will,” she said. It sucked to have to tell him that the hurt might never go away, but the fact was that it got easier to deal with. She’d been living with a broken heart long enough to know for a fact that he’d be okay. It might not ever be a hundred percent again, but at some point, he’d be able to pick up the pieces. He may not have seen it, but she did. He was Frankie’s kid. It was likely to happen in the most dysfunctional, crazy ways, but she knew he’d get back there one day.

Rocco was sure his disappointment showed in his expression. He appreciated that Casey wasn’t lying to him, he supposed. but a part of him, the childish, hopeful side of him, just wanted to hear that it could go away. That everything could go back to the way it was. He would wake up from all of this, and things would be as they should be. The apartment would be full of laughter and light again, rather than dust and death. She didn’t say any of that, though, and with her words, the hope that he would ever reach that level of happy again slipped away. “What kind of normal is there now?” He asked, teeth clenching as he realised he couldn’t picture anything like it. “I don’t know how I can hold on to something I don’t know. If… if this is the only normal there’s ever gonna be, now, I don’t want that. I don’t want any of it.” 

Her touch made Rocco’s eyes flutter shut. He was so tired. Aside from his little nap earlier, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept, really slept. He wasn’t sure if Savannah had noticed that, nor the fact he hadn’t eaten for… two days? three? He couldn’t keep track anymore. “No,” His eyes shot open, head shaking in protest. “No, I know it’s not just my shit. I just… I thought…” he broke off, not sure what it was that he actually thought. Despite Casey’s words, he didn’t feel particularly assured. They were gone. They weren’t here to share his pain. So many people he loved, relationships he thought were unshakeable, now seemed so beyond his grasp, and he had no idea how to make it right. “I don’t want them hurting alone,” his voice broke in the middle of the sentence, trailing off into a high-pitched whimper. An embarrassing, ugly sound. When she mentioned her kids, he couldn’t help but cringe a bit, pulling away from her hands to shake his head almost manically. “Oh, no. Thank you, but no. I’m sure… After Miami…” How could he put what happened in Florida into words? He was sure Casey knew what Piper did, and as much as he didn’t condone it, that was still his sister. He was probably the last person David wanted to see, and Lindsey was as bound to taking her sibling’s side as he was. “You don’t have to… be here.” He gestured around the room with both hands. “I don’t expect you to stick around because of my mom. Not… not anymore.” 

"I’m not sure, baby,” she shook her head. She really didn’t know. As someone who’d been living a life that couldn’t be farther than normal, there wasn’t a way to describe it. She also could tell that her answers, if that’s what they could even be considered, weren’t doing anything to keep him hopeful. There wasn’t anything she could do about that. Moving on wasn’t something she could give him the magical gift of possessing. It was something him and him alone could do. “You don’t want to right now, and you don’t have to, but believe it or not, you will get to a point where you embrace the unknown. When you’re ready, which you will be someday soon, you’re gonna take all these scary unknowns and what-if’s by the throat and not let them control you. You can’t change anything that’s happened, but you can keep going. You’ll get there. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will.”

He was still shuddering, but Rocco had fallen totally silent now. There were still tears, but he barely felt them. Instead, he lay still, clinging on to her every word in a desperate attempt to find some sort of peace in them. That peace didn’t come, though. Casey reaffirmed that this wasn’t okay. Nothing would be the same, or okay, ever again. He had lost what was important to him with no warning. A sudden, violent shift that had overturned everything in his life, sending all the pieces scattering to the wind, and Rocco clinging on for dear life. He could almost understand why Piper hadn’t been able to bear it, had turned her back and ran rather than choosing to stand in the wake of the chaos. If he had that choice again, he couldn’t say he would stick by. 

The idea of living with this forever made him feel sick. His forehead pounding from the force of his sobs, Rocco shook his head in denial. What Casey was saying was almost the direct opposite of Savannah. That contradiction confused Rocco, left him unsure how to feel, how to act, how to be. “I can’t,” was his only response. “I can’t embrace what I shouldn’t have to feel in the first place. This shouldn’t be happening.” By this, he meant so much more than Frankie’s death. He meant Savannah. He meant Piper. He meant the separation he had felt from everything and everyone. That would be a struggle in the best of times. Right now, it was an impossibility. “Back to where?” It was a question more for himself than for Casey, though if she could answer it, it would probably save him a whole heap of heartache. Everything he had ever known was gone. What as there to get back to? “You’re here,” he pointed out. With that, and the kiss pressed gently to his face, he sat up, moving to look at her. “But that’s it. My brothers are gone and Piper is gone and Savannah is gone. You’re the only one left.” 

“You’re right. It shouldn’t. But unfortunately, honey, it did, and letting it build isn’t going to make it go away.” She felt that his response was a loaded one; she saw Savannah’s face when Lindsey had brought her in to their apartment earlier. That was the first disaster strike sign. Casey wasn’t about to bullshit Rocco or keep the truth from him, but she was gentle with it. “Back to...some form of normal, I guess. And I’m not going to tell you that it’ll be normal overnight. It’s not that easy. God, do I wish it were.” She sighed once more, shaking her head a bit. “It’ll never be totally easy, but you’ll get there, and I know that sounds so stupid right now considering everything you’re going through. It will, though. There will be a point where you’re okay again. It could happen tomorrow or in a month or a million months. I don’t know, and I don’t expect it to be anytime soon and neither should you, but it will. You just have to hold on to knowing that.”

Somehow, letting out everything that was on his mind only seemed to break Rocco’s heart even more. He supposed that when he wasn’t talking about it, it was easier to pretend it wasn’t happening, or at the very least, not happening to him. All of a sudden, he couldn’t remember why the distractions provided by Whitney bothered him so much. He would give anything for one of her distractions to detract Casey’s attention from him now. But Savannah was gone. Rocco didn’t know if she was coming back at all, but if recent events were anything to go by, he wouldn’t put money on it. There was nobody but him and Casey in the room, nothing to pull her focus from his cries of anguish. The sounds he was making weren’t noises he had ever heard come from anybody before. He didn’t even know he was capable of making sounds like that. 

Her touch didn’t make anything better. It didn’t bring comfort, nor did it erase the pain he was feeling in that moment, but it did make it easier to breathe, to regain a little control of himself and quiet down a little. It was only then that he realised two things. The first was, somehow, he had ended up with his head in Casey’s lap. It hadn’t been intentional, yet along the way, he had fallen, or she had pulled him to, this position. He couldn’t even remember lying in his mom’s lap like that, not since he was small enough to sit there comfortably, at least. The second was that he was shaking like a leaf, as though he had taken a cold shower and stood on the balcony in the dead of winter. No matter how much he tried to lie still, how much he stiffened his body to prevent it, he couldn’t stop shivering in her lap. Rocco fell quiet as he listened to what Casey had to say. As much as she tried to assure him that his sorrow was normal, that it wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t find it in him to believe her. “I don’t…” he mumbled, breaking off and chewing his lip. “I don’t know what to do. ‘M so lost.” 

Casey subtly moved her touch away from Rocco’s face to his back once again and ran slow, gentle strokes along his spine. She wished she knew how to stop to shaking, how to take away the pain that was so consuming that he was shivering with it. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how, and even if she did, she probably couldn’t. Sometimes, you had to feel that ache. It was all part of the process. She’d let herself feel the grief of losing her best friend, and she wasn’t sure that would ever fully go away, but she could bare the pain. She’d already let it take her when it needed to. It was so clear that Rocco hadn’t gone there yet. He had to let himself endure every horrible emotion that came from a loss this big before he could even consider letting it go.

Rocco tried to focus on his breathing. In through his nose, and out from his mouth, but he could barely manage the first intake of breath. It was all too much. He had no idea how he had been able to hold it together up until this point, but there was no hope of that now. He was so lost in his own cries that he didn’t notice Casey stand up, didn’t realise she had moved beside him on the armchair. Not until she wrapped her arms around him. 

Even if he wanted to fight it, he couldn’t. He sank easily into her arms, dropping his own hands from his face to throw them around her waist, clinging tightly to her. It didn’t matter that he was both bigger and broader than she was. The position was a little awkward, but somehow, he managed not to knock her over. She wasn’t his mom, but he supposed she was the next best thing. The closest thing he’d ever know to a parent again, at least. “I can’t…” he began, though the words were a struggle to get out. There was no way he could finish the sentence. Instead, he dissolved into heavier, louder sobs. He couldn’t even hold himself up anymore, not even with Casey’s support. And so, he shrank in on himself, letting his arms slip from around her and curling up into a ball that was literally half the size of his normal bulk. He twisted over so he was lying down, still wrapped in a tight ball. Her assurance that it was okay made it impossible not to cry. He cried for his mom. He cried for his family. And he cried for Savannah. “It doesn’t feel okay,” he managed to mumble, balling his hand into fists and pawing at his eyes. “It doesn’t feel okay to be sad. It just feels so fucking wrong and I hate it.” 

Casey winced slightly, not expecting so large of a reaction from him. She should’ve. He was Frankie’s, after all. She loved Frankie, but she knew that her best friend had the tendency to bury any serious feelings if she could. It seemed that she passed that trait on to Rocco. She sat back a little once he started to crumple into himself, attempting to guide his fall so he settled into her lap. “I know,” she said softly, hating the way she could feel him trembling under her touch. It made her ache, and a stupid part of her felt responsible for it. She didn’t know how to be a mom to them. She wasn’t. All she’d ever known was how to deal with her own two idiots and being the dorky, sometimes vodka aunt to Frankie’s kids. It seemed that her death had everyone falling into a tailspin, Casey included. If there was a sign that it was time for her to swoop in, though, this was it. 

Rocco froze a little. He had been pretending to be fine for a while now, but clearly doing a poor job of it if she even needed to ask that question. “No, I’m okay,” he said, almost on autopilot, before pausing again. That sort of thing was what led to everything getting this point in the first place. Everything had piled on top of him to the extent that he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and if anybody could understand that, it was Casey. “Actually, no,” he blurted out. “Okay isn’t the word. There isn’t a word for it.” It wasn’t just his mom, but everything that happened since. The world had shifted so dramatically and he was barely clinging on. he wasn’t sure how to navigate this. There wasn’t anything she could do. There was nothing either of them could do about this. They couldn’t turn back time, couldn’t bring Frankie and Piper home, couldn’t make everything okay again no matter what he did. Silently, Rocco shook his head. “I don’t even know what there is to do anymore,” he admitted. “I mean, the worst of it should have passed by now, right? With the funeral and everything. It should be getting better but…” he broke off, looking away to glance out of the window. “It’s not,” he finished with a sigh. 

He wasn’t sure where it came from. It wasn’t that he avoided crying, or anything, but he rarely turned to tears. There was no catharsis in that for him. It had happened a bit since he heard about his mom, but not in the way people might have expected it to. When he cried, it was brief and quiet. Not like what was happening now. Fat tears swam in his eyes, so thick that he was temporarily blinded, and when he breathed in, his intake of air was interrupted by a shuddering sob. It was all too much. Rocco clapped his hands to his face, shielding himself from Casey’s eyes. “Sorry,” he choked out. “You can go, if you want.” 

Casey nodded slowly, stopping to observe as he seemed to question his own answer. It was so easy to get overwhelmed, considering everything. She didn’t expect him have answers or to be able to make sense of what happened. Sometimes, there were things you just couldn’t wrap your head around. Losing someone you loved was one of those. There wasn’t any self-help book that could provide a proper, foolproof sense of how to deal with that. There were no answers. Not for this.

The sob immediately send Casey up on her feet, shaking her head as she forced herself beside Rocco on the armchair. This was one of the only times she was thankful for being tiny. “No,” she said, not realizing how much command was in her voice. She didn’t attempt to take his hands away. He couldn’t hide, not from any of this, but she understood all too well the feeling of wishing you could, of wanting to disappear when the world was too hard or heavy. She pressed a hand over one of his, gently stroking his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Rocco.” She knew that the next move could’ve backfired, considering he was a lot taller than her and could’ve easy knocked her over with one wrong move, but she immediately wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in as close as he’d let her. “You don’t have to know the words for it, and you certainly do not have to feel better. Grief doesn’t have a time frame, honey.” She rubbed small, gentle circles against his back as she continued to speak. “It’s okay to be sad. I’m really sad, too, but don’t bottle it up. it’ll eat you alive if you don’t let yourself go there. You can be upset, Rocco. It’s okay to be really fucking sad right now. I’m right there with you. I know the world feels like it’s caving in. I understand. I’m not leaving. I’m here, and I’m going to be here until you'd like me to go. I promise.”

Casey might not have known it, but her appearance was a welcome distraction from everything. Rocco didn’t hesitate before stepping aside, allowing her to walk through the door. Usually, he would be the first to offer his services as a chief cookie taste tester, but in his current state, he wasn’t sure he was up to the challenge. There was no hunger, nothing that made him want to taste what she was offering. He realised with a jolt that he couldn’t remember the last thing he ate, nor how long it had been, suddenly taking note of the fact that his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the t-shirt that had once been tight to his body now slightly baggy on him. He pulled the string on his pants absently, trying to make them feel a little more normal. There was nothing normal about this, but it didn’t stop him from grasping for it. 

“It’s just me here,” he pointed out, a tiny grimace of an apology crossing his face. “I wasn’t expecting company.” It was his way of acknowledging the place was a mess. Some of it was his and Savannah’s, but the bulk was from his mom. Frankie was no housekeeper. Her stuff was everywhere. He was grateful that Savannah hadn’t moved any of it, but given their last conversation, he wasn’t sure she even realised the significance of that. Not to mention it was clear he’d not been keeping up with the housework. The only part of the apartment that was untouched by dust was the path between his room and his favourite spot on the couch. He left that seat for Casey, though, sinking into an armchair that faced it. He wasn’t really sure what to say to Casey. He couldn’t ask how she was. It was a stupid question that offered only stupid, obvious or untrue answers. Instead, he tapped his finger on the arm of the chair, watching as he disturbed the crap that had settled into the fabric, kicking up clouds that twisted in the sunlight. “I don’t think we have coffee or anything,” he said, apologetic again. “Do you want a water?”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to tidy up for little old me. It’s not like I’m the Queen of England.” As Casey stepped through the door, she thought the cleaning might be something she had to get done herself at some point. She wasn’t saying a whole lot but observing everything very closely. That spy part of her never fully faded, and it had her taking in little cues to Rocco’s state of being. If his demeanor didn’t say it, the apartment sure did. She pressed her lips together, thinking back to her worlds biggest heart break...well, second biggest heartbreak now, when she didn’t leave her own apartment for about a week. Even while wallowing in her own misery, it had never gotten to this. She yanked the Ziplock bag of cookies she had out of her purse, searching for empty counter space to put it down and frowning. Overflowing stacks of mail, banana’s more black than yellow, an empty paper towel roll on the rack. It was undisturbed chaos, and it made the pit in her stomach grow. She should’ve been there a lot earlier. 

She turned back once she’d managed to place the bag in a vacant area, tiptoeing her way back to where Rocco was settled in his chair. “No, sweetie, I’m fine,” she replied with a tight lipped smile. She hesitated for a moment to even sit on the couch. It was like she was afraid to disturb anything, as if whatever she touched in that space would shatter. Even so, she eventually ended up taking her seat. She turned so she was facing him, taking in a breath before she dove right in. “I’m fine, but...and forgive me if I’m wrong or overstepping, I’m not sure you are, Rocco. Do you want a water or anything else? I might have some tea bags buried in here somewhere,” she asked with a nod towards her purse. “I used to swipe them from restaurants when I went out for brunch. My stupid, petty way at getting back at the man or whatever you wanna call it,” she explained with a tiny smile before letting it shrink away. “But seriously, honey, is there anything I can do?”