At 8am, Derek slips out of bed. Casey is still fast asleep, but she's kicked the covers off, exposing her long shapely legs. Derek's jersey has ridden up, too. She's laying on her stomach and it's almost too much to ask him to walk away.

Damn, she's so sexy, he thinks.

He's tempted to get back in bed, to kiss her neck, to wake her up and make love to her again.

Whoa. What?

Casey's head turns and he sees the tear tracks on her cheek.

He bolts. This is so fucked up, he thinks. I cannot be in love with Casey. My stepsister.

Even as he thinks the words, he knows, somewhere deep, nothing's ever been more true. It's not even like it's a recent thing. Acting on it, yes. But wanting Casey, her being the exception to every rule he's ever had. No. That's always been true.

Wearing nylon basketball shorts, his tennis shoes and an oversized Queens's sweatshirt, he jogs to Sam's house.

He decides to skip the front door. He cannot talk to Sam's mom right now. She's nice and he's usually pretty charming with moms, but right now he feels too raw and ragged to muster up any amount of charm.

So he finds Sam's downstairs window unlocked and slips inside.

"Sam," he says loudly right next to his ear. Sam jolts awake. Groggy and disoriented he stares at Derek for several seconds, taking in his current state.

"D," he croaks. "What the hell, man?"

"I need to talk to you. Get up."

Sam would normally tell Derek to go fuck himself for waking him up this early. But he can tell something's wrong. Derek's eyes are wild and serious. There's no signature smirk, no arrogant attitude. In fact, he looks desperate. Panicked.

So Sam gets up, dresses in his running clothes and follows Derek back out the window. They've walked about four blocks to the park, when one of them finally speaks.

"I think I'm in love with her, Sam."

Sam snorts.

Derek ignore this.

"I made love to her last night."

Derek's having word vomit. He has to say this out loud. But honestly, he's surprised Sam didn't already know. It feels like it should be tattooed on his skin. She's changed everything.

Sam's eyes widen. He's a little bit surprised at this. Because it's Casey. She's not someone that takes sex lightly, and wouldn't let it happen without a commitment first.

And he's pretty sure Derek's never really made a commitment—at least not the kind Casey wants—to anyone. Not even Sally.

"I don't know what to do, Sammy." He stops, turns to his friend. "She was crying, and I—"

Derek cuts off. He doesn't do tears, but last night he did. He held her, he kissed her hair. He wanted nothing more than make her tears go away.

"And, what D? What are you going to do? Casey—"

"I don't know!" he yells. "Don't tell me what Casey deserves. I know, alright. But how can I give that to her? She's my stepsister! What about our family?"

"What about them? They're your family. They'll love you guys regardless. Sure, it may be a little weird at first, but y'all aren't really related. And—"

Derek deflates, and sits on a park bench. "Maybe none of this matters. Casey will never go for it. It goes against her perfect little plan."

Sam slaps Derek on the back. "Just talk to her. Be honest, tell her how you feel."

Derek gives him a skeptical look. Sam laughs.

"You're The Derek Venturi. Find a way to convince her."