Live Free or Die (History: Casey)

[Lepa]

A series of glimpses into Casey Calhoun's past. From thug on the streets, to an enforcer for a mysterious man, to the leader of a gang... all of these events shaped him into the person he's become today.

^{(Also warning that there'll be a couple of heavy swears down the line.)}

====================

Casey’s eyes snapped open.

Quickly, his hands darted outwards in defense, groping at his surroundings. There was a brick wall at his back and cold asphalt beneath him. The young teen paused, then groaned, rubbing a palm to his eye. He had fallen asleep in a hidden alley waiting for a mark. How the hell could he be so careless? He should have known better.

After all, this is how he lived.

Ever since he left home, the teen scraped by, thieving and fighting, constantly living on the move with no place to call his own. Was it tough? Sure, but he's survived on his own for this long already. It wasn't the most comfortable life, but... living free, he believed, was worth it.

He was just incredibly lucky his dumb ass didn’t get mugged while he dozed.

Aster City was far different from any other place he’d hidden away in, and he somehow managed to survive here for an entire year. That was saying something for a young, powerless thief like him. After all, if one wasn’t careful, what looked like a helpless target could end up being magical or super powered or genetically altered or some weird combination of... almost anything, really. Of course, he’d already learned this the hard way, so naturally, his best defense was learning how to carefully read people.

And today it seemed he had found the jackpot.

Quickly shaking off the grogginess of his afternoon doze, Casey had gotten to his feet and peered around the corner, spotting some dry looking man in a business suit rounding the bend. If there was anything he learned, it was usually that these types were loaded. Or maybe a hero in disguise, but... nothing about this man particularly screamed "hero."

His dark hair was slicked back and his face taut with blank stoicism. He didn’t seem tired from a long day at work, either; his posture was upright and composed and he seemed to carry himself in a distinct manner. It was as if he had some high up, cushy job where he earned millions for doing nothing: something that penniless folks like Casey couldn’t even dream of. He furrowed his brow in annoyance and jealousy at the thought, but quickly dismissed it and refocused. Whatever this man did, Casey was sure this man was a normal man, but a man who meant business... and business only.

And to Casey, that meant he was a man who wouldn’t fight back.

Perfect.

[Lepa]

As the man approached, Casey began to feign cluelessness as he innocently stepped out from the alley. “Hey, uh, ‘scuse me...” He lifted a hand in amicable greeting, his southern accent thicker than usual. He knew most people found it friendly, making it easy to catch others off guard with it. “Do ya got the time on ya, sir? I was s’pposed to meet a friend ‘round here - at least, I think it was around here... but...” Casey sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “I ain’t sure if I’m too early or not.” He smiled, placing his other hand behind his head. It was a subtle movement, but it was the casual equivalent of when a cop demanded others to show their hands. With Casey’s hands up high, most people didn’t even think twice about him being quick enough to rob them.

The man stared back, his expression unchanging.

“...I see.”

Something about this man was... off. It was one thing for Casey to watch him from the side, but it was another thing completely to speak to him face to face. In the brief moment they stared at each other, there was a silent intensity about the man that Casey just couldn’t describe. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t bad, it was just... unnerving. It was almost as if his gaze bored into his very soul.

...But it was probably just the power of money. Besides, Casey couldn’t back down now because of some strange gut feeling. He couldn’t falter. He had to be quick.

The older man broke his gaze when he shifted his attention to something in the distance behind the young thief. It must have been another person approaching, Casey thought. That meant his escape route would be the direction this man just came from. After all, he couldn’t risk a witness or bystander coming to this man’s aid. So, as he plotted his course, the man before him reached into his pocket. A small golden chain dipped out from the pouch as he lifted a pocket watch to check the time. This was it!

In one swift movement, Casey lunged forward, yanking the golden chain from the man’s pocket and sprinted past him at full speed. He clutched the golden trinket in his hand with a small grin on his face. There was always a special sort of thrill he got from pulling off a heist, no matter how small, and this one was no different; except the fact that this watch could probably pay for all of his meals for the next few weeks.

And then Casey made the biggest mistake of his life:

He glanced back.

What possessed him to do this, he had no idea. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush, maybe it was arrogance, maybe it was the desire to see the man’s look on his face.

But that was the problem: The man had no reaction.

He stood there, watching, waiting. His arms were folded behind his back, and his expression... blank. No, not blank, but... Honestly, Casey had no idea what it was. It was puzzling, to say the least, but he had to focus. Unfortunately, it was too late: in that brief moment he took to look back, he had no reaction time for what was ahead of him.

As he turned forward, he felt his body slam into something. There was a heavy strike into his gut, a sharp blow to his head, and then... black.

[Lepa]

(Swear warning.)

====================

“Hello.”

The voice was faint and distant as it echoed through the darkness.

Casey stirred.

As he gradually regained consciousness, a slow, steady throbbing pain beat in his head like a drum. He was light headed with dizziness and his body felt heavy and sore. He tightened his brow, his eyes still closed but blinking hard. As the feeling returned to his limbs, he realized there was a soft, velvety texture that cushioned his battered body.

”Wh... What...?”

Casey’s voice was hoarse as he struggled to speak. Warily, he opened his eyes.

Before him sat the business man from earlier. He comfortably sat in a chair of his own, relaxed but composed. In his hand, he clasped a shining object: it was the pocket watch that Casey had stolen from him, and he was idly tracing it with a single finger. Was... this some kind of joke? The young thief managed to get the one up on some random suit, and he had the balls to taunt him like this?!

The fatigue in Casey quickly dissipated, his fiery temper renewing him.

“You dumb sonuva...!”

The teen lunged at the man, but rough, thick arms snapped him back into his seat. Casey hissed at the small whiplash. Two men - clearly larger and stronger than him - stood at his sides, silently holding him back. One pulled Casey’s arms behind him, forcing his shoulder blades together. The action was brief, but painful, telling the young thief to shut up.

The man remained unfazed. Again, he stared at the teen, his expression devoid of emotion. "You seem troubled."

Casey said nothing. Instead, he twisted and writhed his body, hoping to snake himself free. He knew the chances of escaping were slim, but he wasn’t going to sit by and let this idiot have his way! If there was anything he hated, it was having people underestimate him. He knew he was short and he wasn’t too smart, but damnit he wouldn’t go down without a fight!

“I see...” the man frowned, casting his glance back down to the pocket watch. “I understand-”

“Shut up!” Casey snarled. He suffered another squeeze of his shoulder blades, earning another hiss from him. The man paused, eyeing Casey before he began to speak again.

“...I understand why you resort to such... unsavory measures.” He flipped open the trinket. “It must be... difficult for someone of your standing to live as you do.”

“Fuck you!” Casey growled again in anger, then in pain. The grunt was rougher with him this time. It forced the young thief to stop struggling, but he still snarled. “What the hell do you know?!” He glared at the man before him, gritting his teeth. He kept trying to lurch an arm free, but to no avail. He was powerless. This man was mocking him, Casey thought. He was sure of it. He was sure he viewed him as nothing more than the dirt beneath his feet, and Casey hated it. “You don’t know me...!” he snapped. “You don’t know shit!”

The man in the suit remained unflinching, his expression still empty and unreadable. “Perhaps. Perhaps not,” he answered plainly. “...but I know people like you... very well.”

“But ya don’t know me, ya sonuvabitch!” Casey spat as he growled, locking eyes with the man. “What’re ya, a cop?!”

“A doctor,” was the nonchalant reply.

Casey hissed in pain again as the grunt issued him another reminder for him to behave himself. By this point, whatever energy he had left straight up vanished, and his second wind had passed. He could feel his body surrendering to fatigue again and internally cursed at it for doing so. In spite of it, he continued to remain defiant.

“Oh, I get it...” Casey grunted, audibly weaker than before. “...Yer one of them quack docs, huh...?” His body shook with a quiet laugh as he forced an angry grin. “One of them folk that the damn cops hired...” He coughed as his breathing leveled. “Is that it, doc?”

“I have no affiliation with the police,” he said. “They have no idea of your whereabouts.” He clicked the pocket watch shut, lifting his gaze to meet Casey’s. “Now, whether this fact is good or bad... is entirely up to you.”

[Lepa]

Casey had already started to object, but he quickly cut himself off. It took him a moment to take in what the man had said. Was... that a threat? If he wasn’t with the authorities, then... who was he? Who could he have been to have said such a thing? The weight of the man’s words had the teen thinking twice. He paused. “...What...” he grunted. “...the hell do ya want?” His tone was cautiously diplomatic compared to how he was yelling moments ago, though this was only partially intentional - the rest of it was his fatigue betraying him. He could normally hold a decent poker face, but it was clear both his voice and expression exuded a mixture of confusion, wariness... even fear. The doctor’s pause of silence didn’t help any matters until he finally answered.

“I only offer you housing and food.”

Casey hesitated.

“...What?”

He was about to protest, but he held his tongue.

“I do not ask much in return,” the doctor continued. “You’ll merely have to do what I tell you.” He glanced aside, almost uninterested. “Just a few odd jobs here and there...” He traced the pocket watch again. “Nothing I imagine you couldn’t do.”

The teen paused. “...So...” Casey’s brow furrowed as he looked to the floor in thought. “You’re... giving me a job?” He carefully ventured, trying to sound out the logic. He repeated it again as a statement.. “You’re giving me a job...” he glanced back up to the doctor. “...after... I stole from you.”

“It is merely an offer.”

Casey frowned.

Something about this wasn’t right. Hell, nothing was right. What sort of normal person just offered something like that? No one was that forgiving! This had to be some kind of trick, right? Or... or maybe the man was mocking him? The doctor said he wasn't a cop... But how much could he believe him? Casey himself had clearly been roughed up by someone under his command. Maybe this was the mafia? Did he steal from a mafia member? Casey didn't know anymore. Hell, he never knew to begin with. Just... what the hell was going on?

"I don't need yer damn help," he suddenly grunted. His voice was weak, but defiant - the fight still burned in his tired eyes. Regardless of the doctor's intentions, Casey was too proud to just throw himself in this man's debt. He was better off being arrested or whatever this weirdo had planned - he'd find a way out of it.

He was sure of it.

"...I see," the doctor stated simply. That's all it was; a statement. He was like a robot with a pre-programmed response, his voice devoid of any tone or weighed reaction to Casey's rejection, and Casey hated it. "Perhaps," the man continued, "We may reach an agreement once you are rested." The doctor then rose from his seat. Before he left, however, he placed something onto the coffee table beside Casey.

The pocket watch.

The young thug stared at the object, cautious bewilderment crossing his face. He looked back to the doctor, who had begun to make his leave.

"...Consider it a down payment."

The man then exited the room, followed by his guards. Casey heard the door lock with a click.

He was all alone.

[Lepa]

It was bad enough that he was caught stealing.

It was worse being locked away like a damn animal.

It had been days since Casey last saw that man - at least, that's what he assumed. He wasn't actually sure how long it had been. The room he was locked in had no windows to see the light of day; no clocks to keep track of passing time... It was infuriating, he knew that much, and he had clearly taken it out on the room. Scuff marks covered the door in several obvious attempts at breaking it down. Holes pocketed the drywall from angry punches and a smashed wooden chair. The only table in the room had a leg snapped off, and the lamp at his bedside lay on the floor, shattered. If there were windows, he would've smashed them all too, but by that point he would've just escaped.

When it was clear his tantrum drew no attention, all he did was lay in bed. He clenched the pocket watch in hand, blankly watching the ceiling light reflect off of its surface onto the walls around him. Casey would've suspected that the man had abandoned him there if it weren't for the fact that he found a meal placed at his door once a day, every day - or at least, what he assumed were days. Either way, it meant he wasn't trying to starve him out.

Casey furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"...So what the hell is he waiting for?"

But Casey knew.

[Lepa]

====================

"...Fine. I'll take up your damn offer."

The man had finally returned after what had been a week. Once again, he sat quiet and composed, his gaze as unreadable as ever.

"...My offer?"

"Yeah, your damn offer!" Casey growled. Again, the doctor's bodyguards stood on both sides of the young thug, holding his arms in place. This time, however, it was much less of a vice grip - they were still firm, but at least it didn't feel like his circulation was about to get cut off. Honestly, he had learned his lesson from last time - Casey at least made an effort at self control, hoping to appear as less of a threat in spite of his rough manner of speaking. He wasn't scared of these men, it was just... very uncomfortable being handled by them. "That's why yer here... " Casey cleared his throat. "...Right?"

"Perhaps."

"Ugh..." He rolled his eyes. He might've just been projecting, but for someone so perfectly stoic, Casey swore the man was just being smug. "Look, cut the "vague and mysterious" bullshit, would ya?" Casey looked aside with a huff. "I'll do your damn chores or whatever the hell."

The doctor simply stared back at him. "So we've reached an agreement." It was a statement, not a question.

"Tch. I guess." Casey's tone was dry. "Don't mean I actually agree." He looked back to the man with a sneer. "But anythin's better than bein' cooped up in here."

"I apologize for that," he replied. No expression crossed the man's face, but it was the first time he offered any sort of sympathy. "Please understand that it was the best option I had for someone was clever as you."

Casey straightened up, cautiously raising a brow. "...Clever?" He echoed in disbelief.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "You must be. It's clear you simply do not go after anyone you come across," he noted. "I most certainly seemed to be a soft, easy target."

"Uh... Yeah..." Casey found himself half heartedly confirming the doctor's observations. "...Low risk, high reward... Least, think that's what they call it..." Honestly, he should've kept his mouth shut - the man who called himself a doctor still could've very well been a cop, but... The fatigue of isolation must've gotten to Casey. "When... When yer out there alone..." He looked aside in thought. "...You gotta conserve yer strength. Try n' get more for less." He glanced back to the man. "Know what I mean?"

"Mmm." The man's tone held a hint of empathy, though no expression crossed his face. "As I said - clever. I imagine you learned quickly."

"Pfft. No kidding," Casey snerked. He was still skeptical of the man, but couldn't help but let his guard down. No one had ever been interested in what he did, after all. "I damn near died the first time I went after some bonehead who turned out to be some superhero in disguise." He snorted disdainfully. "Electric powers." The teen would've crossed his arms, but the bodyguards continued to hold them in place. He settled for glancing upwards. "...S'been a bit over a year, now that I think of it."

"Since that incident?"

"Yeah." Casey paused. "Since I first got here, actually."

"I see..." The doctor had only said the phrase a handful of times, and each time it had annoyed Casey. This time, however, felt different: he seemed to be genuinely thinking about what the teen had said. "A whole year, surviving in Aster City as you were... is no easy feat." He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Quite impressive."

"Huh." Again, Casey could feel his pride swell. "...Yeah. It is." He paused again. "Thanks." The teen offered a slight smile, though the man didn't return the favor. The moment was brief but awkward. Casey immediately shifted his focus elsewhere. "Hey, uh, so... doc..." He tried to straighten himself up again. "Since... Since I'll be workin' for ya..." He hesitated. "Could ya... at least tell me yer name?" He was still a bit wary, but... maybe this man wasn't as bad as he thought.

"What is yours?"

"...Oh." He should've seen that coming. "...The name's Casey." He paused. "Casey Calhoun." Again, the doctor motioned a slow, single nod. "And yours?"

The man remained silent for a moment.

"You may call me..."

[Lepa]

Dr. Johnathan O'Connor.

It was a name that Casey would never forget.

...Especially with how much the others praised him.

"He's a good man... that O'Connor."

Casey sat on the sofa across from the older man - Burt, the doctor said his name was. Even while seated, he was tall, muscular and imposing, but he was surprisingly soft spoken. Though he sometimes hesitated in conversation, it wasn't because of any lack of intelligence; rather, he thought carefully about what he wished to say, allowing each word to carry almost as much weight as he himself did.

"Uh, yeah, that's nice n' all, but..." Casey folded his arms impatiently. "...Why am I here?"

Burt's brow furrowed at the teen's question.

It had only been a little over a month since Casey had agreed to work for the man. His tasks were simple and mostly manual labor - nothing too bad. But when it came to actually living with several of the doctor's other patients, well... They were all... They were friendly, but weird, to say the least.

Casey... did not like it.

Years of relying only on himself made him wary of others. He had been placed with three groups so far - little "families," some had said - and each instance, no matter how harmless or kind they had been towards him, Casey would snap back in a heated rage of swearing, threats and even violence. He couldn't help it - he felt as if they looked at him like he was some stray dog to be pitied. He was working for the doctor, sure, but at least that man understood him. When it came to the others, well... Casey would not be looked down upon. And he would make sure that everyone knew it.

But looking at the large, imposing man seated before him, Casey couldn't help but wonder if he was moved to this house as punishment. He seemed gentle, but...

"Young man..." Burt finally began to answer his question. "I have heard that... simply, you are too rough." His weathered face softened up as he offered a slight smile. "You must learn to relax."

"I am relaxed!" Casey hissed defensively. Burt's smile faded.

"That is... exactly what I mean." He frowned, adjusting himself on his sofa. "It is... okay. We are all friends here."

"Tch. Yeah, right," Casey grunted. "Yer like those other asshats, ain't ya?" He scowled disdainfully. "You must be thinkin' I must be a real piece of shit for stealin' from the doc, huh?"

"You what?!" A voice near shrieked from the kitchen.

"It's okay, Pam..." Burt reassured the woman. "He is now here... as a friend." Though his voice was gentle, his expression was anything but as he shot a glare at the younger man. Casey couldn't help but shift under his gaze.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Pam apologized, coming out with a tray. She was a plain, stout woman who radiated a motherly warmth. She placed an assortment of cheeses and crackers on the coffee table before them. "I just couldn't bear the thought of someone wronging Mr. O'Connor like that," She offered a smile, taking a seat in a nearby armchair, though her honesty didn't really help any matters. "He's really helped a lot of us out, you know!"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard," Casey grumbled dismissively, staring at the tray before them. Immediately, he saw that Pam had meticulously placed the snacks in the shape of a heart. The tray itself seemed to be hand carved from wood - one could see various, flowery patterns etched onto the wooden surface beneath the carefully placed snacks.

"You know... Casey, was it...?" Burt leaned forward, plucking a piece of cheese from the platter. "...You oughta count your blessings," he advised, plopping the snack into his mouth. "Not everyone... is as forgiving as the Doctor." Though Burt was relaxed, Casey lurched upright, clutching the cushions.

"Is that a threat?!" He snarled. Burt simply raised a brow, slowly sitting up.

"Do you... want it to be?"

[Lepa]

"Oh! Please, boys, don't..." Pam raised her palms pleadingly. "I just spent the whole morning cleaning!" She looked to Casey with a nervous smile. "I wanted the place to look nice for when you got here... So, please!" She eagerly motioned to the tray. "Please, help yourself!"

"Tch."

Casey reached a hand out, the tips of his fingers pressing against the edge of the wooden tray. With a sharp snap of his arm, he shoved it. The tray launched off the side of the coffee table. It hit the floor with a loud plunk, its contents scattering themselves across the wooden flooring.

All while glaring into the woman's eyes.

Pam sat in shock, startled by the hostile action. She stared at the mess before her before her eyes began to water.

"You... Y-You..." Pam's voice began to crack as her eyes swelled. She slid off of her seat, sinking to her knees. "Y-you broke... m-my heart...!" The poor woman managed to choke out, burying her head into her arms. As she began to sob, Burt had quickly stood up and stomped over to the younger man before he even had a chance to react.

"Casey," he growled, firmly gripping a large hand around the offender's neck. His tone was terrifyingly cold and empty of the kindness he had just moments ago. "This is no way to behave." he said sharply, locking eyes with him. Casey hissed, vainly struggling to rip the man's hand off of his throat. Burt was frighteningly strong - something Casey hadn't encountered with the others he had lived with.

"Pam... is very nice. She was very excited... to have someone new living with us," Burt strained to say, as if he were holding back something. The woman's sobs quieted a bit as Burt spoke for her. "I was excited, too... So I suggest... you don't ruin that."

Casey could hardly breathe. "O-or else... what?" He struggled to ask. He immediately received his answer in the form of a threatening squeeze to his windpipe.

"The last person before you..." Burt trailed off, furrowing his brow again. He then narrowed his eyes at the teen beneath him, as if to read him. After a pause, he released his grip, shoving Casey into the couch as his only show of force. Casey himself gasped for air, his hands immediately rubbing at the soreness in his neck. His eyes shot back to Burt. The older man had turned away from him, kneeling down to tend to the mess on he floor. Burt paused, then spoke again.

"If you're... going to keep being mean... " He looked over his shoulder at Casey. "You'll end up... like the last person with us..." Burt paused. "And all I will tell you..." He repeatedly curled his thick fingers, as if loosening them up.

"...It didn't work out."

[Lepa]

====================

Casey kicked his heel against the door in frustration.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" He growled, restlessly pacing the floor of his room. "Puttin' his hands on me like that...!"

Even after a good night's sleep, Casey woke up the next morning still irritated. He wasn't used to... being so powerless in a fight - if he could've even called it one.

"It's her damn fault," he grunted, angrily planting himself down on the edge of his bed. "Just about straight up admittin' that she thinks I'm nothin' more than some dumb thief..." He grumbled, kicking his feet. He paused.

"...She ain't wrong, but..."

Casey trailed off, glancing around his room. It was scarce, containing a bed, a dresser and a mirror, but... it was more than he'd ever had within the last few years. Did it belong to the last person who lived here? And... what exactly had happened to them? What did Burt mean when he said it didn't work out? There's no way he could've actually...

Casey brought a hand to his neck with a grimace.

He didn't want to go through that again.

He'd have to play nice from now on.

The teen sighed again, pushing himself off of his bed. Apathetic and defeated, he let his body move on its own, shuffling towards the dresser. Reaching it, he seemed to surrender to gravity, catching himself onto the piece of furniture with a single hand. He slapped his palm onto the empty surface. The room was clearly unused up until his own arrival, so he expected a fine layer of dust to puff up from the impact, but... nothing of the sort happened. He raised a brow quizzically.

"...Huh," Casey pulled his hand away, idly inspecting his palm. "...S'clean." He stated flatly. Weird. He didn't brush it off when he got here...

A voice from yesterday's memory echoed in his head.

I just spent the whole morning cleaning! I wanted the place to look nice for when you got here...

"That woman..." Casey frowned, looking aside in thought. "...Tch..." His expression curled up in disdain. He'd be lying if he didn't feel a pang of guilt. Again, he paused, then shook his head. "No... that woman prolly just cleans here anyway..." He convinced himself, moving away from the dresser. "There's no way she actually gives two shits about me." He scowled into the mirror. "This... is just temporary." Casey leaned forward as if he were speaking to his reflection. "The doc's reasonable. Once this all blows over, I can just-"

His eye caught a folded up card wedged into the corner of the mirror.

"...The hell is this?"

He reached for the thin piece of paper. An image of a long vine with pink roses pleasantly bordered the paper's edges, while the center was filled with big, cursive letters. Casey squinted; he always hated this dumb, squiggly text. As he strained to translate the letters, he managed to piece together what it read.

"Welcome... Home?"

He flipped the card open. Thankfully, whatever was inside had been written in print.

Dear Casey,

Hello! We've heard so much about you.
We know things have been rough for you,
but it's okay - now you're home!
We hope we can help you in any way we can!

He read the last line out loud.

"...'Welcome to the family, Casey.'..." He paused. "...'Love, Pam & Burt'..."

Casey stood, staring at the card, reading its contents over and over. After what felt like a good minute, he finally closed the card. He pressed a palm to his face with a guilt ridden groan.

"Looks like I'm the asshole around here..."

[Lepa]

====================

"Casey... I am... glad that you are learning."

Burt gently placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, though Casey couldn't help but flinch. Though the man was kind and patient, Casey hadn't yet forgotten about the hand that Burt wrapped around his throat. He made more of an effort to be... kinder.

"Yeah, yeah..." Casey responded dismissively, though this time it was less out of disrespect and more out of embarrassment. "Okay... there. This should be good, yeah?]" He motioned to the kitchen counter before them. There, various cheeses and crackers messily covered the same wooden serving tray that Casey had thrown aside the day before. Burt gave it a once over, then shook his head.

"If you want to apologize to Pam..." the older man said steadily. "You'll have to do better... than that."

"Ugh, what?" Casey protested. His tone was a bit sharp, though he tried to reign it in around the larger man. It wasn't that he didn't want to apologize, but... what was wrong with what he did? "Look, we got more cheese, we got more crackers." He frowned. "Yeah, I knocked it all over yesterday, and yeah, I know it's was dumb to waste food like that..." He folded his arms. "But we went to the store n' got more. I reckon that should be enough... right?"

Burt simply shook his head.

"Pam wasn't upset... that you wasted the food," he gently explained. "Pam was upset... because she put love... into setting it up... for you."

"...Oh." Casey shifted his gaze to the floor. "But..." He frowned, raising a brow. "...Whaddya want me to do about this, then?"

"Oh..." Burt paused thoughtfully. "...Just make it look nice." A smile slowly crossed his lips. "That's... what Pam did."

"Er... You mean..." Casey looked to the tray again. "Like... make somethin'?" His eyes widened. "I can't do somethin' like that!"

"...Why not?"

"Urgh, it's just..." The teen stammered. "It's... embarassin' is all..."

"...Do you think... Pam was embarrassed... when you ruined the heart she made for you?"

Casey winced. The older man had a point.

"I... I do wanna apologize, Burt," He paused, then glanced back up to the man. "But I just ain't good at this sorta thing." The teen picked up a cracker, accidentally breaking it in half. "Ugh... see? I can't... make somethin' like she did." He sighed, popping the cracker piece into his mouth. "I don't wanna just... try n' apologize and then give her somethin' that don't even look nice."

Burt stood silent, musing over Casey's concerns. "...Just try, Casey." He finally said. "Pam is... very nice. I'm sure... she'll accept your apology."

"Then... will ya help me with this?"

"No."

"What?! But...!" As Casey spun around to object, Burt was already leaving the kitchen.

"You hurt her feelings... not me." He said from the doorway. "This is something... you must do on your own."

[Lepa]

"On my own..."

Casey stared down at the tray in front of him. He'd been staring for the last 5 minutes. Several times, he had half heartedly tried to move a few pieces around in attempt to form... something, but each time, he'd give up.

"Agh..." He groaned, hands falling limp at his sides. "This is too embarrassing..." The teen hung his head. This time, he had tried to shape the snacks into a heart similar to what Pam had done, but... everything looked lopsided and wrong. If he received this as an apology, he'd swear that the other person was making fun of him. He lightly swiped at the haphazard creation in frustration.

Again, a voice from his memory rang through his head.

Y-you broke... m-my heart...!

Casey sighed.

"Okay... How 'bout you don't do a heart..." He said to himself, starting to rearrange the pieces again. It wasn't too long until he paused, looking over the mess he had started with his half hearted swipe. "Huh... Actually, this kinda looks like..." He trailed off in thought. "Maybe if I just do this..."

====================

It didn't take too long after that.

Soon after, Casey slowly stepped out of the kitchen, steadily carrying the wooden tray of snacks towards the living room. Burt had been sitting together with Pam; he seemed to be comforting her. Fortunately, he was the first to see Casey. He looked to Pam, gently muttering something to her and urging her to look in the teen's direction. When she quietly did, Casey froze.

"Uh... Hi." He inched forward, walking with the tray as if he were attempting some tightrope act. "Er... Pam...? I, uhh..." He paused. "Wait, hol' on..." Casey said hastily, focusing on getting the platter to the coffee table. In his awkwardness, he placed it down a little bit harder than he meant to, causing the force to slightly shake up the rearrangement of snacks. Casey swore under his breath, followed by a quick apology before taking a seat on the couch across from them.

"Uh... Okay. So..." He sat perched on the edge of the cushion. "Pam, I'm..." He trailed off, unable to look the woman in the eye. He sucked in a breath, then exhaled. "...I'm sorry." He could hear her sniffle. "...Sorry for breakin' yer heart." He added, looking up. "...Both the cheese and... your... actual heart." Casey winced - that was corny.

"O-oh..." Pam sniffed. Casey saw that her eyes were glassy with readied tears. "Then... what's this...?" She glanced down to the tray. The cheeses and crackers had definitely been placed with intent, and they obviously made a shape, but... Casey's own finesse combined with the tray's rough landing made it difficult to tell just what he was going for.

"That's..." He frowned, looking down at his sorry excuse of a display. "...Uh." He scratched the back of his head. "It was, uh... supposed to be a sun..." The teen looked aside to Burt for guidance, but all he did was silently nod.

"A... sun?"

"Yeah... Uh... see, it's a circle... so... That's the sun part," Casey grimaced as he explained it. He thought something as simple as a circle with lines would be easy to read, but... well, like he told Burt, he just wasn't any good at this sort of thing. "The thin crackers are supposed to be... the, uh, rays..."

Pam rubbed her eyes. "Why'd you... make a sun?"

"...Uh. 'Cause..."

Hell, Casey didn't know. It was easy to make out of cheese and crackers and... circles were nice, and... uhh. Floundering, he looked to Burt again, who this time mercifully offered some help.

"People... they like the sun."

"Yeah... People like the sun," Casey repeated. "...Uh." Why was that, anyway? "'Cause... It's... bright? And warm?"

"Like Pam."

"Yeah!" Casey said a little too eagerly. He cleared his throat, saying it quietly this time. "Uh, yeah. Like... Pam," He repeated, looking to her hopefully. "...Sorry again, Pam."

Pam frowned, staring back at Casey. Of all the people he had faced in the past, nothing was quite as difficult as facing a saddened woman on the verge of tears. He barely managed to keep eye contact, often shifting his gaze to the floor briefly as he awaited her answer. Thankfully, Pam was the one to look away first. She leaned forward, examining the platter once more. She seemed to inspect it rather meticulously, hovering a finger over the display as if to critique it.

Finally, without warning, she stood up. The initial sudden movement startled Casey, and before he knew it, Pam had walked around the coffee table and snatched him up, embracing him in a warm hug.

"Ooooh...!" She cooed happily. "Apology accepted, sweetie!" She hugged tighter. Casey was not used to this, but... he was relieved, at least. Over her shoulder he managed to see Burt, who offered a small nod and smile.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad here after all.