Sensations

Rated: M (Mature themes)

Pairing: Will be Dasey eventually

Genre: Romance/Drama

Summary: At first I wasn't really sure what was happening, what I had done, and I sort of sat staring at my blood pouring from my body. I watched it drop and puddle on the floor with some sort of sick fascination until the searing pain set it. (WARNING: Deals with self-injury)

Disclaimer: Not mine, which is oh so sad because I would bring them all back to Newfoundland!!!

AN: Kay, I have no training with any of this and no person experience. I've done a little research but not a lot, if there is anything incorrect or that seems off to you please let me know. I'm more than willing to fix any mistakes :)

Also, this one will more than likely not be updated as quickly as 'Lines in the Sand' just because this one is a little more in depth, I guess is the word I'm looking for. It's not going to flow as easy for me I don't think. So bear with and review!!! Let me know if I should go on. Next chapter will more than likely be third person unless you want me to continue in first person.

Chapter One - In which we see Blood and Tears

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Life isn't all it's cracked up to be you know? Sometimes it's easier to give up and let go, everyone has to let go once in while, right? See this is my problem, I have so many questions, so many feelings and no where to vent them. I started cutting in ninth grade, I think. It was an accident at first, my Dad told me he was getting remarried. Don't get me wrong she's a great woman but I liked things the way they were and at 15 I didn't want to share my house with more people. So I got mad, threw a picture at the wall, glass exploded everywhere and cut my forearm.

I remember standing there, staring at the broken glass, then the gash on my arm, which, incidentally, needed stitches, and realized just how much better that pain made me feel. All the self pity and hatred left with the pain in my arm. Whenever things would get too stressful I would make a tiny cut with a razor blade in my wrist. I was always careful, not too deep or anything... Always hidden by a large band on my arm. No one ever knew.

After a while I stopped, fighting with my step sister seemed to alleviate my need to hurt myself, that was until I found myself wanted to kiss her instead of insult her... or maybe I'd do a combo of both. The only way I could stop myself from fantasizing about her was to start cutting again. Her face dulled with the sharp edge of pain in my arm.

I just want it on the record that I have never attempted suicide, even though that's what it says on my psych eval. It was an accident, I never realized that all that time I'd been cutting with a dulled blade. This one was new, I bought it when I lost my other one. Sitting in the bathroom I dragged the new blade across my skin, feeling the familiar bite of it. There was a lot more blood than usual, I must have hit something major without realizing in. I'd become careless in my need for release.

At first I wasn't really sure what was happening, what I had done, and I sort of sat staring at my blood pouring from my body. I watched it drop and puddle on the floor with some sort of sick fascination until the searing pain set in. It hurt a lot more.

I was getting dizzy, the smell of my own blood was making me sick and this cold sweat enveloped me. Part of me wanted to lie on the floor and sleep, but another part of me screamed 'do that and you die!' I tried to get to my feet but, like I said I was dizzy. I slipped, I must have hit my head on something because my vision went dark and blurry. I sat there dazed and bleeding.

Dying.

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I saw the razor blade and took in the other healed scars on his wrist. I remember crying and pulling him into my lap, rocking his body a bit before coming to my senses. I pressed a towel to the wound, he must have hit an artery for it not to clot... I found a weak pulse in his neck and his breathing was shallow but he was still alive. At the time I wasn't sure if that was what he wanted at all, but I didn't care, it was what I wanted! I remembered right before I ran out the door that my cell was in my pocket I quickly dialled 911. The nice woman I spoke to stayed on the line with me until the paramedics came. They did their thing, it's all a blur now I just remember being asked if I was coming with. Of course I was! He was step brother after all!

The closest hospital was Memorial, great staff, good with suicide cases so I recall. I read a lot. They took him into a curtained room, bandaged his wound and set him up on an IV to fix the damage he'd done. The doctor explained that with suicide attempts there was a mandatory evaluation and an over night stay in the psych ward, sort of a suicide watch.

I found it so hard to believe that he would do this, I couldn't find a reason. Then again you can't always see the reason on the outside. Something inside of him made him want to do this and I wanted to fix that part of him if I could. If he'd let me.

Our parents were shocked, then angry, then upset. In fact they seemed to go through the five stages of grief even though he was still alive. Mom cried a lot. My step dad blamed himself, then my mom blamed herself, they seemed to take turns doing that, consoling the other until it was their turn.

My other step brother, like me, found it difficult to believe and my little sister just seemed sort of shocked by the situation. The only one unfazed was my youngest step sib, she's only 7 and she only knew her big brother was in the hospital. She had no idea what he had tried to do...

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I was too young then to realize what was going on around me, but I was still very observant even if I didn't understand everything that was going on. I remember that time as being very stress filled. Casey and Derek still fought a lot but it was always more serious then the other fights they had had and often ended with one or both of them in a crying mess. It was so strange the first time I saw my Smerek cry, knelt on the floor in Casey's arms, her body was shaking and I knew she was crying too but the sobs I heard were all Derek. He had been so ashamed to show her his scars, wounds that I didn't understand until much later. It wasn't so much what he was doing as the reason behind it. Something inside him had felt empty enough for him to cut his own skin in order to make sure he was still alive.

From the moment Casey, Lizzie and Nora moved in things were different. I hadn't had many female influences so it was probably a good thing they came along when they did. Like I've said; I was young, I was six when they came into our house, but something struck me right away. Well maybe not right away but certainly within the next few months. Derek didn't look at Casey the same way he looked at me or Lizzie, and Casey didn't look at him the way she looked at Edwin. There was something there and at first I mistook it as hostility, like everyone else in the family. But I soon began to notice the little looks they gave each other when they thought the other wasn't watching. I always watched, Derek was my hero after all.

The night of Derek's 'attempted suicide', I still refuse to believe it and I believe my brother when he says it was an accident. He admitted to the cutting and received help for that, why should he lie. Anyway, that night, it hit me just how much Casey cared for Derek, I'm not sure how I knew, I can vaguely remember thinking that Casey was looking just as worried as Nora did when Daddy was sick and she didn't know why. Lizzie looked concerned and so did everyone else, but the worry etched on my step sister's face was not of that for her step brother.

While Derek was recovering I watched them more. As a part of his therapy Derek had to apologize to all those effected by his destructive behaviour, as a way to atone, I guess would be the word, for the pain he had put them through as well. Thus the aforementioned crying jag on the floor with Casey. My brother had saved her for last, I guess he was unsure in his feelings for her and therefore wasn't really sure how to apologize to her. Honestly, I'm not sure what he said, but I did see the result of the conversation. It was probably the turning point in their relationship.

No, that's a lie. Casey finding him past out on the bathroom floor in in his own blood may have been the initial turning point for them but it certainly wasn't the last. To say the least.

Things were uncomfortable for quiet a while in out house after that. No one really seemed sure what to say to Derek, They were angry and upset and didn't believe him when he said it was a mistake, which made him more frustrated. I think if he hadn't had Casey on his side then that he would have started cutting again to get through the day.

When I was old enough to understand Derek explained to me what he had done to himself, sort of of a plea to me to talk to him about any and all problems I was having. I googled reason behind cutting after that, it was hard for me to believe because the Derek in my eyes, my Smerek, certainly could not have these feelings. A lot of self injuries are abused, Derek was not in anyway shape or form, when I asked why he did it he explained that half the time he felt empty, numb and it was a way to feel and then those times that he did feel it always seemed like it was bad, anger, frustration, disappointment. He could not remember being happy. Until Casey came along. He said that she gave him somewhere to vent the feelings he'd been coping with through cutting, he didn't feel the need as often when he focused on her and soon he stopped.

That is until he fell in love with her.

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TBC