Disclaimer: I don't own.
A/n: This came from lack of sleep, my cousin's first birthday since he died being a few days ago, and my undying love for Cassidy.
Dick's feet shuffled up the familiar drive. He stuck the key in the lock and turned it. He should have left the door wide open when he left, he should have let people run through his house and swim in his pool; but he didn't. He didn't want a thing in Beav-Cass-his room touched, moved, even breathed on. Why? He had no clue. Didn't feel right, or some bullshit his mind told him when he left.
Dick knew this was sick, he knew it was twisted; he was sure that if anyone knew he was doing this they'd think he was insane. But he knew he lost his sanity long ago. Eight months ago, when his broth-he took a step backwards off the top of the Neptune Grand. Dick walked by the spot everyday, he would avoid if he could; but there isn't an alternate route to the places he need to go. Lie. If he really wanted to avoid it he could he could take the long way around, move the hell out of Neptune, or just the Neptune Grand. Dick didn't know what drew him to the spot everyday, but everyday he'd walk by that spot. A copper color stain still in the concrete of the sidewalk, from the blood that gushed out of him, or was it his brain?
Dick shuttered as the door creaked when he swung it open. He inhaled the scent of the old Casablancas house. It didn't smell alive, it smelt musty and dusty and some other word that ended in -usty; it smelt dead. Dick shuttered again at the silence of it all. He closed his eyes and heard Beaver-no fuck-Cassidy-god damn it no- his laughter. He looked around the house, just the way he left it. Smashed television set, overturned picture frames, broken mirrors. He sighed and looked at the watch on his wrist. 11:55. He guessed it was time, he should go upstairs. He looked at the open front door, but didn't move to close it. He walked right by it as he went up the stairs. He stopped at the top of them. His door down the hall but nearly hitting him in the face.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and he jerked his hand back, it was cold. He opened it and walked in; and he wanted to walk right back out. His eyes pricked with tears already, and he only had them open for a second. His eyes were squeezed shut so hard, it started to hurt. He took a deep breathe. Dick, you can do this. Open your eyes, you need to do this. For him-no no no no no no NO!-for Beave-Dick, just shut the fuck up.- for Cassidy. Dick choked out a sob at his thoughts and opened his eyes. He ignored flipping the light switch, the pale moon shone in from the window. Dick looked around the room at all of Cassidy's things. His cologne still in the air.
Dick knew he had officially lost it, but at this point he didn't care. He walked over to Cassidy's closet and opened it up. He ran his fingers over the fabrics of all of his shirts. Dick pulled out one of Cassidy's jackets. Dick brought it up to his face and inhaled. The scent nearly knocked him down. The smell was his, just his. It was the mixture of his musky cologne, peppermint, fucking peppermint; Cass chewed peppermint gum like Dick drank beer, the smell of the ocean, and the smell of his shampoo. His shampoo, Dick always made fun of that pansy ass shampoo. It was a mixture of Honey, Sugar Cane, and some fucking girl flower. Dick tormented his brother of his fucking shampoo. His sobs bounced off the vacant halls and they were loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood, but Dick didn't hear a sound.
Dick fell to Cassidy's bed, slipping the Jacket on over his body. The sleeves made it halfway between his elbow and wrist and the bottom of the jacket barely reached his belly button. Dick curled himself into a little ball, and looked at his watch.
"Happy Birthday Cassidy." Dick whispered out, silent tears rolling down his face.
He missed his brother, he loved his brother. He hasn't begun to care what he has done to all those people, to Veronica. It doesn't matter to him. He is-
Dick cut his thoughts off, and got up from the bed.
He kicked through the chair that was beside Cassidy's desk.
"FUCK YOU CASSIDY. FUCK YOU. YOU FUCKING CHICKEN SHIT, YOU PANSY ASS PRICK. YOU LEFT ME, YOU LEFT ME ALONE. you fucking left me." Dick's tears came back as he grabbed a pillow from Cass' bed.
"I treated you like shit, and you left me."
Dick laughed at himself. He really was fucked up. Cassidy got the last laugh in the end didn't he? What sane person celebrates his mass murdering psychopath rapist brother's birthday, sleeps in his bed, wearing his Jacket? Yeah thats right no one. He fell to the bed and replayed every memory they ever had in his head. Dick treated Beav-Cass- his brother like shit his whole life, but Cassidy still stuck by him. He still love- no he didn't Cassidy didn't love him. Who would?
Dick fell asleep that night crying himself to sleep, he wasn't drunk, Madison didn't fuck around, he missed his brother. His brother who wasn't there, to silently walk into his room not say a word, and just hug him and tell him 'everything was going to be all right'.
Dick didn't wake up in some fairy tale land. His best friend didn't come find him and wake him up, he woke up the same as he went to sleep, alone. He looked around, the deep blue comforter wrinkled from Dick laying on it the night before and the jacket bunched around his body. Dick slipped the jacket off and walked over to the closet. He knew that he would have to come back and get it rid of this stuff, or pack it up and put it in storage. But he didn't care, not right now. It was still Cassidy's birthday and it was twenty minutes past noon. Dick looked around the room, tears forming in his eyes. He briskly walked out and slammed the door. He walked down the stairs, and out the front door. He rubbed a hand through his hair and sighed.
"I need a drink."