title: you and i, we've got to learn a few things

summary: maybe, at least.

pairing: alternative chad&sonny

author's note: oh dear, how I love these two at the end of the day. how I love LOLChanny819. this is for her, always. I adore you, bby, you are the very best and deserve the very best – except obviously this is not my very best, but, I apologize. I saw that you were doing a contest – and I missed it – of course I would miss it, but I decided I'd write you an alternative universe chad&sonny anyways: to make up for my horrendous excuses.


their eyes meet across a fire. the flames lick her face, lighting her up – she looks like an angel in hell – he thinks. he smiles at her – she's caught by his charms.

they kiss behind her cabin –

it starts.


he kicks the soccer ball and it flies into the net – swerving brilliantly away from the goalie at the last second – people cheer and the other team sighs as his team cheers.

don't you know? chad dylan cooper always shoots the winning goal – chad dylan cooper never loses.

this is chad dylan cooper's passion. this is all he knows.


she sometimes sits by the lake – her notebook in her hand and her humming loud against the leaves. the wind shakes – her toes are numb from the cold water. she writes sonnets sometimes – about blonde hair and blue eyes and the coy smirk crossing his features...

she doesn't write for just anyone, she writes for the very very best.

she doesn't know what love is. but she does know what pain is – and pain is the heart of every sonnet and book and poem and relationship – really.


they go to the same camp – one summer. she's never been – he's been going since he was little. he plays soccer and she writes sonnets and they don't even focus on anything similar to each other.

but really, familiarity is boring – they think.

passion is about different interests, molding into each other.


he has a girlfriend back home – she has blonde hair and green eyes that can cut diamonds when she's angry. he loves her – he thinks. maybe, at least, he think he could.

but this girl with her brown hair and her brown eyes – she should be plain, he thinks. then it would be fair – but she is so unique, her hair choppily cut and her eyes full of fire – and he thinks:

how can he be in love with someone else when this girl kisses his lips with fever – a fever that would burn him up, he thinks, if he loved anyone else.

but – you know, he's not the brightest so, he could always be wrong.


"what's your name?" she asks.

"chad," he whispers, smiling.

she giggles, "your name fits. cocky and self centered."

he doesn't know if she's joking but – really, he doesn't mind when she smiles at him – warm and safe.

to him, her smile is home.

"i'm alison," she laughs. "alison munroe."

he looks up at the sky, "you remind me of the sun, alison."

and she smiles – teeth white and lips pink – "call me sonny then."

he takes her hand, and kisses those pink lips.

"sonny," he says.


sometimes, he thinks of it as this:

she is innocence and purity and he is sin and taint.

but then she kisses him, and her fingers trail down his back – he shivers; she laughs.

and then he changes his mind – because he realizes that when someone touches you like that – they must have mischief in their souls.

(her eyes – they dance under the fire's light – orange lighting up brown –

oh, how beautiful she is, and how desperately fast he is falling.)


she writes him a poem one day.

it's written in her messy script – her fingernails are stained with ink.

it is titled dumbass.

she thinks she's in love.


"sonny," he whispers.

they lie on the camp's slide – side by side. they breathe in and out.

"yes, chad?"

he turns on his side – feels the lightest of static charge build through him. "have you ever felt – felt like you were one with the stars?"

she laughs, "when i was little, i used to shine my flashlight at the stars - i thought that if they saw my light, they would pick me up and bring me to my real home."

he smiles and watches her eyelashes flutter, "what would be your ideal home?"

"i will never know," she admits. "i don't know what a home is." she breathes, "what about you?"

he looks at her: freckles dotting her nose, tanned, smooth skin that felt like silk on his fingers – "a beach – with sand that settles beneath your feet, catches in between your toes. a beach with waves that lazily rise. somewhere that makes me think without having to worry."

she kisses him before the pain in her chest makes her lose her thoughts.

her true answer is on her tongue: you are home.


summer ends. she doesn't cry; he does.

the summer heat has melted his shell, and as she kisses him goodbye, she runs her fingers through his hair. "miss you," she whispers in his ear.

he doesn't say anything back but kiss her forehead and let's her go.

they don't exchange numbers or addresses – he doesn't like the thought of not seeing her but he thinks it's for the best.

he cries as her plane takes off, but he wipes his eyes quickly.

he waits for the bus in silence.


he plays soccer and trains more. his girlfriend hangs on to him often, but he can't seem to kiss her with meaning.

but she doesn't notice. no one sees the blunt pain that lingers in his eyes. sometimes, he thinks it's better this way – but in the dark of night, he only wants someone to notice.

one new friend request: alison munroe.

he exits out of the window. he doesn't know why.


days speed past – he breaks up with his girlfriend and quits soccer.

no one cares.

(he's beginning to fade away)


his parents bring him to a therapist.

his parents collectively wave their hands and rant to the man in the leather chair, "he's quit every good thing in his life – you've gotta help him – you've gotta give him drugs – anything to get our chad dylan cooper back!"

the therapist looks at chad and smiles, "who's the girl?"

chad looks at the man, and he lets his smile shine through, "her name's alison. i met her at summer camp."

his parents look at him in confusion, and then chad whispers ever so softly, "i'm in love with her."

the doctor smiles and turns to chad's parents, "your son is fine. give him some time."

on the way home, chad's parents ask him questions, and he doesn't answer.

when they pull in their driveway, his parents are both angry and seething.

"she writes poems," he says.

he leaves the car.


alison munroe would like to be your friend.

he hits accept.


dear sonny,

I love you.


go back three months

he sees her across a camp fire – and this is the moment that chad dylan cooper falls in love.

he just doesn't know it, yet.