Chapter Text
It starts out innocently enough.
Or, perhaps as innocent as going to an abuse support group can be. As unassuming on the surface, yet brimming with razor-sharp broken edges underneath. It was a simple whim, a moment of curiosity. Casey had only recently gotten her own apartment, escaped the suffocating pain of her Uncle’s home, and yet still found herself empty.
A wraith in her own new home, alone with her shame and her own disgusting flesh.
Her whole life has been filled of mishaps, of things that have happened to her. Horrible things, terrible things. Things that she doesn’t want to dwell upon, but haunt her every night and during her waking hours.
Casey’s past is a ghost that never lets go.
What harm could come from going to a group for survivors? What harm could she possibly expose herself to, being surrounded by others who understand what trials she has been through?
Her heart is in the right place, but fate has other things in store. This is one case where she falls straight in the deep and has no one else but herself to blame.
The group itself isn’t as liberating and freeing as Casey had thought it would be. She sits and listens intently, trying to see herself in others. Trying to make a connection. She’s given this a few tries already, but the weight on her chest still remains.
Suffocating her every day, baggage like a ball and chain.
She never offers up her own story, still clutching her horror close to her heart. A shame she doesn’t want anyone else to see. Their group organizer asks her to speak up a few different times, but she always shakes her head. She isn’t ready. She doesn’t know if she will ever be ready.
Casey, Casey-bear, don’t you want to play a game? You know animals don’t wear clothes
The sound of her uncle’s voice in her head makes her shudder. The stories of others pass her by in a blur, she’s too busy trying to repress her own memory.
After the group session lets out for the night, she pours herself a cup of coffee in their reception area, distantly listening to the different pairs of people speaking together, connecting in ways that seem almost foreign to her. Sighing into the disappointingly lukewarm cup of joe, Casey starts to turn around, preparing to leave when she nearly spills her cup all over another body behind her own.
“Oh, I’m sorry…” her voice trails off quietly as she finds herself looking up into the bluest eyes she has ever seen.
The man looks down at her with a slight smile, his eyes kind. He is quite a few years older than her, at least a decade more, but that certainly does not diminish the fact that she inherently sees that he’s very attractive.
“It’s alright. That coffee isn’t warm enough to do any damage. I would know,” he says with an even, gentle voice that Casey finds endearing.
I would know, Casey thinks over his comment miserably, the words hinting at darker things.
Then again, why else would he be here if not for having suffered something in his life?
Shy, nervous in front of his blue gaze, she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “The coffee isn’t the best.”
Is that the best you’ve got? You probably sound like an insipid child to him, Casey berates herself, flushing red.
His nose wrinkles as he looks at the coffee. “No, it isn’t, is it? It should be a crime, not being able to brew a decent cup of joe for a group of people.”
“I suppose it would make more sense for them to be handing out sleeping pills. I know I would prefer those; a nice dreamless sleep,” Casey says, wincing after a moment because now she probably sounds like a drug addict.
Instead of giving her an odd look, he laughs throatily. “Oh, you and me both. Some nights can be so bad that I sit there wondering what on earth I have to do to convince my doctor to give me something good.”
“Hey, are you guys getting coffee or are you just blocking it?” Casey and the guy both turn and find a few people looking rather grouchy about them blocking the coffee pot. The man places his hand on Casey’s shoulder and gently pushes her to the side, gesturing apologetically to the other group of people.
Casey smiles up at him hesitantly. She isn’t one to give her smiles often, but something about him makes her feel warm inside. There is no judgement in his gaze, just curiosity as he looks down at her. “I wonder what a good night of sleep feels like,” she says, wanting to keep the conversation going, but not sure what a man like him would like to talk about.
She feels so inadequate next to him.
“I wouldn’t know. I seem to lose track of time and sleep anyhow. But hey, I’m getting out of here to get a decent drink, none of this hogwash. Would you want to go get a coffee with me? If you don’t mind being seen with someone like me, that is.” He says this with a strange mix of confidence and nervousness, knowing what he wants but afraid she wants no part of it.
For a moment, Casey doesn’t know what to say, staring up at him with her doe eyes. Is he asking her out? Her? Knowing she is here, at this group for a reason? She is no angel, she is tarnished, yet this man wants to spend time with her.
Taking her hesitance as the beginning of rejection, his eyes dart sideways. “Or hot chocolate. If that’s what you prefer. I…uh…”
“You don’t care about…what happened to me…that I’m…?” Casey blurts it out, because she needs to know.
She wants to know how he can stand to look at her when she can barely stand looking at herself in the mirror.
He looks momentarily confused. “Well, you never mentioned anything during the session, so I can’t say I know. But. I can say that whatever happened to you isn’t you. And. You seem like a sweet girl. I’d like to buy you something that will keep you warm on your way home tonight.”
Every guy that Casey has ever dated never knew about her. They never knew why she flinched nervously at their expecting hands. Cringed away from their hungry gazes. It killed her, because she couldn’t overcome her own trauma, her own fears of intimacy due to what had happened to her. She couldn’t bear to tell them, she knew they would never understand. Every guy walked away from her, frustrated, pissed off. They called her frigid, cold.
A fucking prude bitch.
This is something different. This man, he knows there are broken pieces of her. She knows there are broken pieces inside of him, otherwise he wouldn’t be at this meeting. Perhaps…perhaps getting a drink with him wouldn’t be so bad. She’s got no one waiting for her at home after all, no furious Uncle John accusing her of whoring herself out to other men, men other than him just because she was out late.
“I’d like that. To go with you,” she finally answers, gazing up into those blue eyes.
He smiles slightly at her and nods his head towards the door. “I’m Kevin,” he says.
“Casey.”
They step into the cold winter night, stepping closer together as they start walking down the sidewalk. He’s a perfect gentleman, catching her when she slides on the ice in her heeled boots. She blushes as he rights her, offering his arm to her for support.
He’s so much different than the boys her own age.
They sit down in a local café and true to his word, he buys her a nice warm coffee. They sit down in one of the booths, sipping their drinks in relative silence until Kevin asks her if she has been to the group often.
Casey shakes her head. “No. This is maybe the third time I’ve gone. I keep…hoping to get something more out of it, but I’m not sure its been worth my time so far.”
Kevin shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve been going for a few weeks. My doctor thought it would be useful for me to see that I’m not alone with my issues. Granted, I’ve got some bad issues, but that’s a story for another day.”
Casey looks up at him shyly as she takes a sip from her cup. “You don’t look like you are struggling, for what it’s worth.”
He smiles at her and her heart beats a little faster. “Well, you know how it is; not all scars are visible.”
She knows this is true, but she is also littered with very physical scars all over her body.
“So, you see a doctor actively?”
Kevin nods, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been seeing her for many years.”
The idea of seeing a doctor has never appealed to Casey. She doesn’t enjoy talking about her history. “Does it help? Talking to a doctor?”
He laughs and the sound is like music to Casey’s ears. She feels like a fool, she’s known this guy for half an hour and she’s already feeling loopy over him. She’s never this stupid. “I find it useful to have a doctor. I’m not sure what I would do without one,” he says. “Don’t you have one?
Shaking her head, Casey looks off into the café vacantly. “I don’t really talk much. About the past.”
She can’t afford one anyway, not without Uncle John.
“Ah. The strong and silent type, huh? I knew you had a mysterious aura around you.”
They spend another hour talking about safe things. Casey finds him so genuine, so real and touchable. There is something raw and vulnerable to him and she’s never felt so drawn to someone before.
“Thanks, for the coffee. And. For asking me to come here with you,” she says softly as they walk out the front door.
She doesn’t want this moment to end. She’s never really had a real friend, certainly not one cut from the same cloth. Casey knows she will keep going to the stupid group just to see him again. She’s like a school girl all over again with a stupid, foolish crush. Crushing on the untouchable older man none the less.
Kevin is looking at her with those gentle sea blue eyes and he brushes a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Can I see you again?”
The organ in her chest stops beating momentarily. “You…you want to see me? Again?” Her voice is so mouse-like and she is horrified at herself.
He laughs, that beautiful sound. “Of course, you. How does your Friday look?”
Friday is empty. Saturday is empty. Sunday is empty. He can have them all as far as she is concerned. Casey bites her lip and tells him Friday night looks open, but she will check her calendar when she gets home.
They go to the café again, sitting and chatting about music and books they’ve read. Figuring out if they watch any of the same popular tv shows. Talking about feelings. Things Casey normally doesn’t get to talk about. They agree to see each other again, trading phone numbers.
It feels like a small victory.
Now, when Casey wakes up in the mornings and goes to work, she doesn’t feel like she’s trying to convince herself that life is worth living.
*
They go to the movies a different time and her heart pounds the whole time, wishing he would do more than hold her hand. She wants him to lean over and press his lips to hers, she wants to taste the inside of his mouth and the feelings are inexplicable.
She wants like she has never wanted before.
He puts his arm around her and she can smell his cologne. She wants to bury herself in him, her face pressed to his neck. He swallows audibly, but continues to watch the movie, a gentlemen to the end.
Casey wishes he wasn’t. A gentleman, that is.
She tells herself it’s only their third date, but she is hungry and she doesn’t know why.
She’s never felt like this before.
*
Kevin takes her to the zoo, where he works. He takes her behind the scenes, shows her the animals up close, let’s her observe the tigers from the employee porch. She’s thrilled being so close to all these predators.
Casey loves wildlife despite the reminder it gives her of her past in the forest. Of her Uncle.
The animals represent survival to her. Being strong and surviving.
She hugs Kevin when they leave, pressing her lips to his chin because she can’t reach his lips. He makes a noise in his throat and she finds her lips pressed against his, his strong arms pressing her against his body.
Heat floods her veins at the gentle caress of his lips on hers, his tongue stroking against hers in a way that makes her core clench embarrassingly. She’s never felt this before. Never for anyone else.
She’s never wanted anyone else to touch her. Not like this.
She’s always been too afraid and she’s never trusted anyone enough.
*
When he comes to see her apartment a month later, she is utterly nervous.
It’s her place and he’s an adult man. What if he thinks she is a slob? She spends most of the day cleaning everything she can, trying to get rid of the clutter here and there. She lights some candles, trying to make it smell beautiful in the entire place.
Kevin shows up at seven and presses a kiss to her nose, then her lips. “I’ve missed you,” he breathes against her skin.
They cook dinner together, making a mess all over again.
“I’m not very good at this,” Kevin says, wiping pasta sauce off of the back of the stove where it had splattered.
“Be quiet, you’re perfect.” Casey smacks him with a towel and screams when he turns to chase her over to the couch.
He tickles her mercilessly, pinning her into the cushions. When they are breathing hard, he pauses, looking down at her with serious blue eyes. Casey’s heart is pounding out of her chest as he slides his hand behind her neck and presses his hips against hers.
A shuddering sigh escapes her lips at the feeling, him pressed against her through the layers of their jeans. His hips roll against hers and heat courses through her stomach in a wave. She presses up against him, wanting more of that sensation.
He groans in his throat, his lips tasting her mouth hungrily as his body completely covers hers. For a moment it feels unerringly good, but when his hands travel to her breasts, creeping up under her shirt, Casey tenses nervously, panting.
He might see her ugly, hideous scars. Just pieces of her shame, written across her body. Her mind flashes to another body, her Uncle’s large form pressing her into the floor harshly while she cries and begs him to stop hurting her.
Casey goes cold, frozen in the moment. She pushes Kevin away, his eyes flashing in surprise.
“What…did I do something wrong?”
Letting out a shaky breath, Casey covers her face in humiliation. Would she ever get past the horror? Would she ever be able to be truly physical with this wonderful, kind man?
She wants to give herself to him, but she’s so terrified.
“I just had a flashback. I’m sorry. I’m working on it,” she says, too embarrassed to look at him.
Her body is still hungry for his, but her mind is paralyzed in the past.
He adjusts himself in his jeans, his face red. “I know how that is. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe it will help?”
She shakes her head. Not tonight, she’s not talking about it.
Two months after their initial meeting, he takes her back to his place. His apartment isn’t the nicest, but it is bigger than hers. There is a sense of chaos in his place that isn’t something she would have expected of him. So many coats, shoes, a few different closed off rooms. She doesn’t comment, she’s too thrilled at being with him, the fact that he even wanted things to progress with her.
They lay on the couch, pressing against each other, theirs mouths fused together. An hour passes this way, his hands occasionally trying to get past the top of her jeans. Casey pushes his hand away every time, a moment of cold anxiety echoing in her mind every time he tries to expose more of her. She tries to push it down, keep the unreasonable fear at bay.
She can hear her Uncle in her head, telling her to not be a tease. It makes her sick to her stomach.
“Is this not okay?”
The fact that he asks endears him to her, calming her nervous heart. “It’s…not you. I just. I’m still not ready. I’m sorry, I thought I was. I’m trying so hard. Things have happened to me…that make me a little nervous. I just don’t want anything with you to be tainted by those memories.”
He sighs and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Hey, don’t be sorry. I’m ready when you are.” She can tell. The evidence of his eagerness is pressed against her leg, hot even through their clothes. He continues speaking, “But, I’m telling you, it helps to talk this stuff out. You don’t want it to haunt you. I can help you, I understand your suffering.”
That night she tells him about her Uncle. His eyes don’t turn hard with disgust. He strokes her hair and murmurs encouraging words to her, telling her how he’s there for her for however long she needs.
It feels like a weight has been lifted from her chest.
*
Days slowly turn into weeks and those blur into months.
They grow closer than they thought possible, two broken people too afraid to share themselves with anyone else.
Keys are exchanged.
Secrets are shared.
All except one secret. The one that should have been shared.
The only secret that really mattered.
One fateful afternoon, Casey drives over to Kevin’s house, carrying a few movies in her bag. She got off work early and can’t think of anywhere she would rather be. His condo is on the third floor of the somewhat run-down building. It’s close to the zoo, which is all he really cares about, considering his early morning start.
Fumbling with the keys, she takes the elevator up to his floor. She’s a bit early, but she hopes he won’t mind. She can always put on a pot of coffee and wait for him to get home. She knows he will be tired, he had a 4AM shift in the morning.
She enters his front door quietly, taking her work heels off at the doorway.
He’s sitting haphazardly on the couch, wearing a hat she’s never seen on him. On his lap is a large sketchpad, also something she’s never seen Kevin whip out before.
Noticing that she has walked in, he raises his eyes to look her over. A wide grin splits his face, charismatic and open. “Hey there, baby. You’re here early today.”
Baby? The pet name stops Casey in her tracks and she frowns at him. Kevin has never called her that. “Excuse me?”
The Kevin who isn’t quite Kevin leaps up off of the couch and sets the sketchpad down as he makes his way over to her with a certain swaggering motion. “Oh, honey, what is that look you are giving me? We really did think you were coming a bit later…”
His mannerisms are different, even the sound of his voice. A bit higher in tone. Casey takes a step back and frowns at him, feeling unsettled. He cocks his head to the side, noting her expression. “Do you want some tea? I can make it for you, if you want. You look a little pale, sweetie. I’ve got a really nice jasmine green around here somewhere…”
Baby. Honey. Sweetie. What the hell is going on here, Casey thinks furiously. “Is this some kind of joke? Who are you? A relative? Or are you playing a game on me?”
Those beautiful blue eyes go wide with shock. “Oh. Oh dear. You don’t know, do you? Shit. I messed up. Why do I always open my big mouth?”
None of what he is saying is making her feel any better. “What don’t I know? Where is Kevin? Who are you?”
He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly with a frozen smile, looking at her with some form of pity in his gaze. Casey hates pity. “I’m Kevin. I mean, I’m not exactly Kevin, but-”
Rage flashes in Casey’s inner eye, red and furious. She doesn’t like games. She doesn’t like being teased. This feels like every other guy who has ever let her down hard or gave her the run around. The feeling makes her insides turn to acid.
If he didn’t want to be with her anymore, he should have just said so. She doesn’t need the theatrics. She hates theatrics.
“Don’t even both with the song and dance, I’ll just go,” Casey snaps at him, interrupting his sentence.
“Wait!! Casey, baby don’t leave. I’ll explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain!” Casey trudges back towards the front door, face red. “I get it, you’re done with me and don’t know how to tell me. I’m just a silly little girl to you, a silly girl with a lot of baggage.”
His hands grab her arms and he physically stops her from opening the door. “Baby, no! I want you to stay. You mean so much to us. Leaving is literally the last thing I want you to do.”
It only takes Casey a moment to realize his cologne is even different. The scent of this man isn’t even the same. Could it be a twin? Huffing, she says, “What is going on here.”
Not-Kevin is looking down at her with this dismayed expression, frozen on his face. “We have DID and were too embarrassed to tell you.”
Casey blinks. “We? DID? What is that supposed to mean? Is that an STD of some sort?”
He shakes his head wildly. “No, no definitely not! It’s Dissociative Identity Disorder. Caused by trauma. Kevin has multiple personalities, or alters. I’m one of them. I’m Barry, honey.”
The words are floating around Casey’s head, but none of them are making sense. “You’re Kevin. But not Kevin.”
Barry Who Is Not Kevin nods firmly. “He was embarrassed. Kevin didn’t want you to know. I’m sorry. I thought he would have told you by now though, seeing how he gave you a key. He’s never given anyone a key. You’re special.”
“I think I need to sit down,” Casey mutters.
How is this real life? She’s heard of people suffering vile abuse, splitting their mind into pieces to escape the pain. She never thought she would meet a real-life person with multiple personalities though. It would just be her luck; the first guy she ever felt close to just had to be more broken than her.
Barry Who Is Not Kevin quickly escorts her back to the couch and sits down next to her, though not as close as Kevin would have sat beside her. It is like being with a complete stranger. “I know this is a lot to take in. Kevin thought you were coming later, he’s not in the Light right now. In control, I mean. He was letting me work on my drawings, I have to get them ready for submission this weekend. He didn’t think you would show up with me here…”
Casey nods numbly. She isn’t sure she is on board with this situation. It was like having two boyfriends, except they shared the same body. “How many of you are there?”
Barry grins nervously. “I mean, baby, there are a couple of us. But you probably won’t meet most of us. Unless you want to.”
Something in his tone makes Casey narrow her eyes. “How many of you are there, Barry?”
He winces, coughs into his fist. “Uh. Like twenty-three or so.”
Casey scoffs and looks at the house plant beside her. This would explain all the tooth brushes she saw in Kevin’s medicine cabinet. The different boxes of clothes. All the damn coats in his closet. She shakes her head and says, “Unbelievable.”
Barry snaps his fingers, looking at her intently. “My historical knowledge of you, strictly through Kevin, tells me that you are immensely grouched-out by this, but being grouchy doesn’t mean you are mad. You’re prickly. You’re like Dennis, but not quite. You’re much better. Much better, honey. I mean, you’re not really like him at all. Not even a bit. You’re sweet, that’s what I’ve heard. I-”
Breathing out slowly, Casey turns to look at the man that’s she been dating even though he isn’t Kevin at the moment. She makes a choice and says, “Barry, you talk too much. Can you be quiet through any of these movies?”
She lifts her bag up, exposing the DVDs to his view. His jaw works slowly as he looks between her and the bag. “So, you’re not leaving us?”
Running a hand through her hair, Casey shakes her head, can’t tear her eyes away from his earnest, hopeful gaze. “Not yet. We will see how this works.”
What’s one more wrench thrown in my life?
“Did you ever plan on telling me?”
They are in bed later that night, nightclothes on, Barry now long gone. Kevin has his arms around her and this time it feels familiar. Her mind is still in a whirl, cannot believe that only hours before the man next to her was someone else entirely.
She isn’t completely sure that she has come to terms with this yet. She’s willing to try, she’s willing to try for Kevin though.
He sighs, his chest moving against her back. His breath caresses the nape of her neck and she shivers. “I was afraid you would leave me. If you knew.”
Casey turns in his arms to stare up at him. “You really thought you could hide something like this forever? From me?”
Kevin’s face is serious as he looks down at her. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to. But I wanted to. I’ve been dead inside for years and something about you makes me want to keep living. You mean so much to me, you don’t even know.”
When he talks like that, she can barely hold onto her anger. He’s told her some of what he recalls of his abuse. It makes sense now, how he says some of it is blacked out. That he doesn’t remember everything, how he left his body at times during the worst of it.
His lips brush against her skin, sending goosebumps up and down her flesh. “You’re so strong,” he whispers. “I admire you so much.”
Sitting up in the sheets, Casey runs a hand over his scalp, enjoying the scrape of his close-cropped hair. “Stop flattering me. You’re strong as well, you’ve survived torture. The things your mother put you through…that is the stuff of nightmares.”
He shakes his head, gazing up at her sadly. “I’m not the strong one. That’s always been someone else.”
“Who?”
Rolling onto his back, Kevin sighs at stares up at the ceiling. “Someone I hope you never meet.”
The idea that he has an alter he doesn’t want her to talk to is unnerving. Tensing, Casey asks, “Why would you say something like that?”
He runs a hand over his eyes. “I wouldn’t want you to hate me.”
Life turns a little strange in the following weeks, but Casey rolls with the punches.
On a Saturday that Kevin has off from the zoo, she wakes up next to a child. His lisp is painfully obvious and he carries himself like young boy, slouching and sullen. “I’m Hedwig. Nice ta meet chu.”
Casey splutters and looks down at herself. She’s in a tank top with no bra, in just her underwear. Her and Kevin still haven’t gone ‘all the way’, but they have certainly made progress. “How old are you?”
“I’m nine, sillyyy. Can’t you tell? I see your underwear!! Haha!! Want to see mine, et cetera?”
“No. NO! Keep your shorts on. Don’t look, no, don’t look at me. Inappropriate. I’m getting changed.” Casey crawls out of the bed, arms crossed over her chest. Her nipples are hard, poking through the thin material of her tank top and she feels like a monster being like this next to a child.
Not that she was by a child last night, she was beside a full-grown man.
When she is clothed properly, she finds him dressed in a yellow track suit, jamming out with some large headphones on. When he sees her, he grins widely, so open and innocent. “Heyyy! Do you like Drake? Kanye? Those are my boyz. You shuld see my moves. They are sick!”
He grabs her hand and enthusiastically drags her to the main living space. He fumbles with a boom box and wild dance music begins to blast loudly.
Hedwig does indeed have sick moves and Casey can’t help but laugh and smile as he jumps and turns all over the room. He grabs both of her hands and asks her to dance with him.
“I can’t dance,” Casey laughs.
“Don’t be stoopid. Evryone can dance!”
Sighing, she goes to the boom box and flips through a few songs until she gets to a pop song that she likes. She grabs her coffee off the counter and takes a sip, helping her to wake up further as she sways her hips to the song.
Hedwig claps his hands excitedly.
His huge grin builds her confidence. She has never danced in front of anyone before. She’s never even gone to school dances. She lets herself go with the song and tosses her head side to side, letting her long dark hair flip through the air as she bounces around.
She turns a few times, enjoying the beat. The thrum of the bass is deep and she finds that this dancing thing is fun. Maybe she should have dance sessions with Hedwig more often.
On her next turn, she looks at Hedwig and freezes, because his expression has suddenly changed. His posture is tall, no longer slouched, shoulders squared powerfully. He’s blinking at her as if he can’t quite see her, taking a step forward as his tongue wets his lips.
Embarrassment floods Casey in a wave; this isn’t a boy anymore.
He takes another step closer, inhaling harshly, seemingly struggling with something. Casey is frozen in her place, unsure of what to do, but distinctly nervous. She feels like prey.
Suddenly, the body posture changes once more, softening as Kevin’s body absently clutches at the collar of the track suit. “Oh, no, none of that now. Control yourself.”
The accent sounds prim and proper, that stance almost feminine. Casey gazes in shock with her mouth open. Is there a woman in his body too? Is that even possible?
This new alter looks down at the track suit in distaste before looking at Casey again. “Sorry about that. He’s trying to behave, but you do make it difficult. Kevin has such strong feelings for you.”
“Who…who are you?”
“Me? Oh, I’m Patricia. Don’t look so nervous, my little dove. I’m here now. Come, I’ll make you breakfast. Hedwig isn’t capable of even feeding himself, let alone you. You must be starving.”
Casey nods absently. Three alters in one morning. It was like a rollercoaster that never ended.
***
Time passes in this fashion, but for the most part Casey only sees a mix of Kevin, Barry, and Hedwig. Patricia makes appearances one in a while, attempting to mother Casey in ways that slightly disturb her.
She’s not sure how she feels seeing a woman in Kevin’s body.
“I’m glad you didn’t leave me,” Kevin says one night as they watch tv together.
Casey feels like she’s gotten more than she bargained for.
***
A few weeks later, the weather hits record lows. Her car breaks down in the snow and Casey buries her head in her hands. This is the last thing she needs. A broken car. How is she going to get to work tomorrow? She can’t rely on Kevin, his job at the zoo always had him up so early every morning, before the sun even rises.
Casey can’t even afford to fix a major break.
You can always ask Uncle John for help. He will help you. This traitorous side of her mind makes her ill. She knows she is right, he would help her, but she wants nothing to do with him anymore. Getting a loan from him would only put her right back under his thumb.
I’ll figure it out. I’ll budget tight this week. I’ll get through this just like I’ve gotten through a hell of a lot worse.
The car begins to get cold, forcing Casey to make the call to one of the local auto shops. The black tights under her work skirt don’t keep her very warm and she’s shivering by the time the tow truck arrives. Her toes have nearly frozen in her black work heels, the shoes more fashionable than practical.
At the auto-shop, one of the sales reps calls her a cab to get home, letting her know that her car is going to have to stay the night and will be looked at in the morning. By the time she gets home, she’s a frozen mess, her hair thrown every which way by the cold winter air. She takes the stairs up to her apartment and unlocks the door, ready to open a bottle of vodka and drown her sorrows when she notices Kevin furiously scrubbing her kitchen with a rag, his back to her.
“Kevin,” she calls out, her tone warbling with tears.
She just wants to run into his warm arms and grab the bottle of vodka. His back stiffens at her words and he turns to look at her as she walks into the kitchen, traipsing in snow and mud with her boots. His brow is furrowed and his eyes are stormy behind glasses that Casey has never seen before.
“Look at the mess you just made. Take. Those. Off.”
The voice isn’t Kevin. Nor is it Barry. Or anyone she recognizes. It’s deep, growling, thickly accented. Casey has never been scared of Kevin before, sweet and kind Kevin, but this version of him intimidates her. She takes a step backwards, frozen in shock.
So much for getting wrapped up in Kevin’s arms. This man in Kevin’s flesh looks cuddly in no way, shape, or form.
He draws himself up, his shoulders square and his arms crossed menacingly. Casey needs no further prodding. She scurries back to the front door and takes her boots off quickly. “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” she says softly, hating the meekness of her tone.
As she walks back towards the kitchen with hesitation, she feels the way his eyes examine her, head to toe. His gaze is like a physical touch and she gets the impression that he is mentally undressing her. He inhales sharply as he focuses on her skirt and tights, his face darkening with displeasure. “You’re two hours late. Where were you, dressed like that?”
Casey almost chokes. He’s complaining about how she is dressed? He’s got an internal curfew for her, like he has any right? Like she belongs to him?
Glaring, Casey snaps, “Who are you, my father?”
He steps closer, setting the cleaning rag down. This man towers over her in a way that Kevin and his other alters don’t and Casey suddenly feels so small before him. His eyes are a dark blue, furious and filled with fire. His muscles are taut, pulling at his shirt. “No,” he growls, “but even so, I wouldn’t allow you to dress like a whore in the middle of winter.”
The air goes out of Casey’s lungs in a rush.
Rearing back from him with eyes wide, Casey does the only thing she can think of; she slaps him. “You’re disgusting,” she cries out, tears stinging her eyes.
Those are words that would have never crossed Kevin’s lips.
She darts past him and runs into her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She’s had enough for one day. First, her car just has to break down on her, now her boyfriend is inhabited by an asshole. She curses that she can’t just be with the man she wants to be with, the one that makes her feel safe and warm.
Casey faintly thinks on the posture of the alter in the other room, the way he looked at her. She’s met this one before, she thinks. Briefly. Momentarily. When she danced with Hedwig, this could only be the one that had appeared for a few moments before Patricia sent him packing. She’ll never forget that hungry and covetous gaze that made her feel like a possession.
It feels like a betrayal. She tries to reason with herself, it isn’t Kevin who is making her feel this way.
Not for the first time, she wishes Kevin was just Kevin and that he was a normal man in love with a normal girl.