WARNINGS SPOILERS AHEAD: if you don't want to be spoiled read this after watching the finale on monday (i'm so excited)

This entire fic is based on spoilers for the finale "At The Worlds End" in which it is rumored that Casey admits to Cappie he's the one and it is RUMORED that he shoots her down.

In other news, there is quite a bit or swearing and let's just say more dramatic actions and dialogue than usual but alas, Casey has been drinking and social etiquette seems to melt away to more primal instincts ( ie swearing, crying and ohhh confronting) when alcohol gets involved. So don't be too alarmed at the darker seemingly OOC Casey =)


She's pretty sure she's on the cusp of a downward spiral. Or maybe she's been in a tailspin for so long she can't remember the last carefree, happy - I know who I love and what the fuck I want to do with my life-moment. Or maybe she is just drunk, really, really drunk and on the verge of wasted. She thinks she's leaning toward the latter, when she realizes she is literally leaning and catches herself a moment too late and meets the grass, damp with dusk, with a thud.

And she sits. And she sits and she drinks; now she's more than positive she's drunk, and now more than ever she doesn't care- just doesn't care anymore. She's pretty certain she's given up, at everything, love, life , school...just given the fuck up and ready to spend the next few hours, days, weeks, whatever, at the bottom of a bottle.

That moment, the moment she slipped and fell, the moment her life was supposed to flash before her eyes and point her true direction? That moment was a sham, the only clarity almost dying gave her was that she had no idea whatsoever of her direction. Somewhere her dream of prom queen / cheerleader/ valedictorian had given way to pledge/straight A student which had disintegrated in favour of the charm and statue a career in law would award, which in turn had given way to the charm and patriotic glamour of a career in politics. She snorts, she should have accepted that she wasn't a politician the moment Ashleigh, the best friend, the wingman-er, girl- had won the sisters over her thought out, speech writing , tradition rallying idea of what she thought being a politician entailed.

The only direction facing her now seemed to have distinct downward pull, the level of alcohol in the bottle, the direction of her love life, her school work....everything in general seemed to be heading down ward- And part of her rationalizes that she is being melodramatic; that she is just hurt right now, hurt, confused and really freaking drunk. Unfortunately this 'rational' part of her chose to abandon ship when questioned over a new path, politician out ....alcoholic in?

She tips the gin bottle back to her lips, opens, swallows, and frowns. Gin has never been her drink of choice, personally she has always likened the taste to pine needles and yet right now there seems nothing more appealing then the thought of something with a taste strong enough to erase the bitter taste of rejection. She is not even sure how she came by this bottle, only vaguely recognizing that she was holding on to it after fleeing from the Kappa Tau house.

Her stomach twists itself in knots again and she knows she is doing a terrible job of forgetting his words. But to be honest she has been doing a terrible job since their breakup freshmen year, why should this be any different?

Because it should. Because she saw her life flash before her eyes and found herself directionless save for the familiar path her feet took her down to the Kappa Tau house. Because she almost died and they were having an At The Worlds End party. Because she realised then that her career didn't mean shit, if at the end of the world she wasn't with someone she loved, if at the end of the world she wasn't with Cappie.

She knows she should be laughing at the irony. He turned her down this time. He spurned her kiss, her advances, her proclamation of devotion – after all the times he said he would be there, the one time she reciprocates, he decides it's too late in the game for this and brushes her off like a wrinkle in his pants. And irony of ironies, he is now in his house, president, laughing, socializing while she is getting as drunk as she can and wondering what she did wrong- what she did to deserve this.

Perhaps this wouldn't hurt so much, perhaps his rejection would sting so fucking much if it weren't so clear that it was all her fault: one can only drop something so many times before it breaks, his devotion, his advances, his knack for always being there when she needed him ...how many countless times had she spurned with a laugh, with an "Oh Cappie, when will you get yourself together". Forget Cappie, she laughs acidly, "Oh Casey when will you get yourself together?" .

She sighs and swirls the contents of her almost empty bottle, she had never been one to handle alcohol straight, she liked it like she liked her coffee; sweet enough that she forgot what she was drinking in the first place, somewhere in the back of her mind she congratulates herself for not puking or crying get, or worse, both at the same time. Soon enough she is sure, she may not know where to go, but soon enough she will be hunched over a toilet or a bush somewhere purging herself until the only thing leaving her body is tears. Yay, sounds like fun.

Somewhere in the past few seconds, minutes, hours of her drunken lamenting she has ended up lying on her back and it is only now that she registers the stars above her. For a moment she tries to remember Max's lessons about constellations, but she can't even recall Max's face at the moment because Cappie's face is etched into her eyelids, look of pity in place and everything.

How many times had she chastised Cappie for having no direction, for having no ambitions save for the amount of alcohol he could hold in one go. She wants to pull her hair out or scream or something because she is no better, in fact she is worse because she preached her ten year plan with more conviction then Dale at a purity pledge meeting, and now she has two careers down the drain and is retaining more alcohol in one go than she ever has in her life. She is so much worse than him because she acted like she was ready to take on the world, and as it turns out she can't even take on her ex. She is so much worse because he never judged anyone for their plan or lack thereof and she picked apart every plan for flaws, for ways to improve hers until she ended copying off of other better plans and fittingly ended up here with no plan whatsoever.

She swipes at a stray drop of gin on her face after an awkward attempt to chug lying down. She is not so far from the party that she can't hear the constant din of cheering and laughter, it is only now that she can hear distinct voices. There are people walking toward her drunken nest and as the conversation draws nearer, she feels her stomach plummet to her feet.

There is no mistaking that voice, and she strains to hear the next words from Cappie's mouth.

"Well I certainly hope you can take that dancer flexibility of yours into areas other than the dance floor"

And then the tears come, a steady rush down her face and she is trying so hard not to gulp or choke or make any noise but it is so hard. It hurts, it hurts so fucking much that he is off flirting with another girl so soon after his rejection of her. The stars are now hot spots of melting white and her hands are clenched around the bottle and she is biting the inside of her cheek because all she wants to do right now is sob, and scream and puke because this makes her sick and because it hurts so bad.

The dancer –slut, whore, trash-girl is laughing no more than five feet away. She struggles to keep herself in check until they move on. She pinches herself with her nails, squeezes her eyes to stop the flow of tears and chants a mantra of "wait until their gone, wait until their gone"...

"Oh Cappie, I'm flexible anywhere you want me; dance-floor, wall, bed, shower..."

(wait until their gone, wait until their gone, wait until their gone, wait until their gone...)

"Shower huh; I'd like to see that"

"Oh, my god! Go away! This is a field, if you want to have sex there is a shower and a bed and oh my gosh, a wall too, in your freaking room Cappie, can you please take your skank away , some of us are trying to think here!"

She doesn't know when in her rant she ended up standing, or when during Cappie's sleazebag reply that she snapped and started yelling but she knows she is up now, and she knows that they are staring at her in wide-eyed shock, and she knows that she is not only hurt but angry as hell.

Cappie is the first to recover and she wants to shake him and hit him and kiss him so badly when he turns to the whore instead of her.

`` Um, Devon, you should probably go``

Somewhere in her fuming sobbing mess of a body she does an invisible victory dance when Cappie ignores Devon`s protests and starts advancing on her.

She swallows, again trying to get a grip on her emotions but right now she is either too drunk or so upset that she can`t compose herself enough to force a smile. And by the time Cappie is close enough for her to read the angry, confusing look on his face she knows her face must read as a mess of tears and too much gin, oh and stomped on feelings.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and look almost resigned as he meets her eyes.

`What are you doing Case? ``

Suddenly she is incredulous. Screw drunk, screw hurt, she`s freaking pissed.

``What am I doing? What am I doing Cappie? Let me tell you something about life Cap. When you almost die your life flashes before your eyes, and you are supposed to realize what you want in life. You are supposed to see the light and realize what is important. And you know what? I fell down a manhole and almost died. And guess what else? My life flashed before my eyes and whoopee I realized that I wanted you, that I belonged with you. So I came over to you know fulfill my destiny, only to get... rejected. Are you kidding me? Are you serious? Is this what all that white light was supposed to mean? My life's destiny is to be rejected and miserable? That's just great Cappie, just fucking brilliant. So that is what I'm doing right now; I am wallowing in my rejection and getting good and miserable. That is what I'm doing right now Cap, fulfilling my destiny. You should go fulfill yours and be an ass and break some hearts...oh wait you already did. You must be so, so proud of yourself. You reached your destiny and now I'm trying to attain mine, so if you could leave I'd like to get back to fulfilling my lifelong purpose``

And now he`s mad, the part of her that knows him like the back of her hand recognizes the narrowing of his eyes and the way he tenses up to his toe, only now she is too pissed off to care.

`` Oh that`s good Casey, that is real convincing... I reject you once. Once! One time in comparison to the hundreds of times you turned me down, and you react like this? Stop being so over dramatic, everything with you has to be like this. So you want to be with me, so you care about me now. That`s great, in fact it`s just fantastic that you had to almost die to admit your feelings. I wonder if you need to be full of tortured to admit you love me too. Do you know how many times I put myself on the fucking line for you, with no end of the world prompt, just you know everyday situations and my feelings for you? And every time you turned me down. How am I supposed to feel here Case? How am I supposed to feel like this is fate and this is what is meant to be when I have tried to make this happen so many times before. Why would almost dying make this any different? Stop acting like a child Casey, I really can`t take it anymore``.

It`s too much. He is too right, and she is too drunk and it`s just been too drama and heartbreak for her to handle in one night, so her knees give way with her anger, and she is so close to hitting the ground as a sobbing mess, she is inches away before his arms pull her up which makes her feel even more guilty so now she a sobbing mess in his arms and she knows she should pull away move but she can`t even move her eyelids to open.

He is saving her again.

``Aw fuck Case, don`t cry. I didn`t mean ...fuck. Look we can talk if you want, in the morning when you`ve slept this off. God, please don`t cry`

He wipes her cheek with his thumb. He is saving her again and she hates him for it, because it makes her feel guilty and because she knows it won't last. Consequently this train of thought makes her cry harder.

She feels his knees buckle under the weight of her and suddenly he is pulling her down to the ground, his arms never letting go until he is sitting with her against his chest. In her head she stops fighting his touch because this is what she wants so much.

It feels like hours before her heart-wrenching sobs turn into shaky gasps and small hiccoughs and all the while he is holding her, rubbing her back and stroking her hair. Several times the intimacy of this gets to her and she starts crying all over again. And then it is still, the noise of the party has died down and the sound of his breathing and her gasps are all she hears, his hands have ceased their motion and she wonders if he has fallen asleep.

She speaks now without thought, without a plan and without a goal in mind.

`` I am so sorry Cappie. I am so sorry it took me so long to realize you were the one. I`m sorry I was such a bitch to you on so many occasions, I am so fucking s-s-orry I turned you away so many t-times becc-cause I only just grasped tonight how much it h-hurts``

She pauses to keep her tears in check. There is no sign that he has heard her other than the slight tense in his body now. Another shaky breath she continues.

`` I`m sorry I judged you for not having a plan, because honestly Cap, I`m more clueless than you and I`ve alienated so many people trying to get a clue, trying to get a direction and nothing fits, nothing fits except for you and that`s why I am so, so, so sorry it took me too long to come back to you, because you are the only path that I can see myself on now and in the future, and I am so sorry for myself now because I ruined that one too``

A long silence follows her breathing evens out to the occasional hiccough and she finds herself now in a position Cappie held for so long, she finds herself waiting.

``You didn`t``

She pulls herself away to face him, his expression is so complex, so dark, so familiar, so caring but so guarded.

`What? ``

He sighs and rubs his face with one hand that reveals a half smile has it pulls away.

`You didn`t ruin that path, our path. You don`t know how much I wanted to kiss you back then, to say to hell with it and take you back right then and there. I was stupid, I guess, I am stupid now too. I just.....I just wanted to hurt you too you know, tough love, let you know how I felt every time you said just friends. I wanted you to hurt as much as I have, and I`m a fucking idiot because the moment you ran out of the house all I wanted to do was run after you``

She holds her breath, he takes another deep one.

`I`m an idiot for thinking I could live with hurting you for more than ten seconds, I have to be there for you Casey, I don`t have a choice, it doesn`t matter who is hurting you I can`t not be there for you and as much as I`ve been trying to prove to myself that we can be mature and we can move on. I can`t leave you alone, fuck Casey, I can`t not be there for you``

He is smiling some silly, sad, resigned smile, and she thinks she has butterflies for the first time in years.

There is nothing more sobering than a hear t to heart and she wishes she had another shot to get her through this next bit.

``Is it too late for me to want you to be there for me? Because I want you to be, so bad``.

He laughs suddenly and pulls her in close.

``you know, I think no matter how much I wish I could get over you, or how much you try and choose a more respectable path``

She tries to protest the last point, tries to emphasize that it doesn`t matter, and that she wants him but the words are lost somewhere between her mouth and his hand covering it.

`` No matter how much either one of us tries to fight it, we`re always going to end up back here``

And then he`s kissing her, hard. And she`s kissing back and pressing into him and touching and stroking and grabbing at every inch of him and he`s tangling his hands around her hair, her skin and neither of them can be close enough because it`s been a long time coming and repressing feelings is an option long cast away.

She kisses his mouth sweetly and pulls away smiling.

`` So would you say `back here` is destiny? ``

He kisses her nose.

``Never have I been happier to have someone fall in a manhole and almost die``

``Manhole`` she giggles `` That`s a funny word``

``Shut up Case ``

Then his lips are covering hers and she`s sure she`s smiling into the kiss and she can feel he`s smiling back, and she could care less about destiny and downward spirals and careers paths and empty bottles of gin because all she can think of right now is right beside her reciprocating and that's enough of a path for her.

I hope the happy ending wasn't too awkward, I'm so programed to write angst that I'm scared by happy bits seem forced and yet I really really want a happy greek ending .

As always I wrote this in the early hours of the morning / late hours of the night so don't be too frightened of my bad spelling and grammer and occaisional poetic license. Oh, and I'm pretty sure I se-sawed between the Canadian spelling realiSed and american spelling RealiZed ( or at least I think that is the american spelling I'm not 100% positive) in any case there is both and I don't think I caught enough to change it all to one spelling.