CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
almost grown.
season seven, episode five.

☆ author's note ☆
hey y'all! sorry for the belated update,
i was too focused on the chapter after
this ( insert evil maniacal laughter )
to actually write this one. lmao. sorry!

          "DO YOU WANT ME TO KILL HIM?"

Mark sounded so serious that Cassie had to do a double-take to make sure he was actually kidding.

It was sweet how much he cared, really, but if she wanted to kill Jackson, she'd probably just do it herself. He was her brother, after all. Of course, that fact was the sole reason she was in this mess in the first place.

"It's not Jackson's fault," Cassie shook her head, her left elbow resting against the nurses station and her head in her hand. "If you're killing the people responsible for the whole world knowing I'm an Avery, you should probably start with Derek."

"True. What do you think, execution style?"

"No, too easy. You gotta make it hurt a little bit."

"I can manage that."

A couple of heads turned, but Arizona—who was standing beside them and decidedly unaffected by the conversation—waved them off with a smile, as well as a shrug that said, oh, they're just teasing!

Looking back at the couple, her smile didn't drop, although she lowered her voice when she asked, "Can you two please stop discussing murder in public?"

Mark tilted his head in contemplation. "I feel like it would be worse to discuss murder in private."

"That's not—" Arizona started, before she paused with a thoughtful expression, "Just stop it. We're surrounded by tiny humans and the parents of said tiny humans."

He only shrugged, but didn't seem like he would actually stop any time soon. The blonde rolled her eyes.

Cassie ignored the two, choosing to drop her head fully into her hands instead, her palms rubbing against her tired eyes. It had only been a few days since the whole hospital learned about her being related to Jackson, and subsequently Harper Avery; let's just say, not everyone took it with grace.

Notably, Cristina and Meredith, who had yet to speak a word to her, aside from the former coughing up a quiet 'nepotism!' in passing.

Amelia had vehemently apologized for dropping the bomb so publicly, but Cassie had forgiven her before she'd even left for the airport to go back to LA.

Honestly, it saved Cassie the trouble of having to do it herself. It was bound to get out at some point. Though, Jackson wasn't as relieved, nor was his mother or grandfather from what she'd heard, but that wasn't really her problem. That was an Avery problem.

A hand rubbing her back snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked up so she could smile at her fiancé for the unnecessary—but much appreciated—comfort.

"You okay?"

Cassie nodded, because she was. Like, actually, believe it or not. A little annoyed at the drama of it all, but that was it.

"Yeah," she told him honestly, and the way Mark grinned after she spoke nearly made her heart melt. He tended to have that effect on her.

"Good," he winked, his hand coming up to tug at the sleeve of her scrubs—her dark blue scrubs—as he continued. "It's a big day, Robbins and I need you focused."

Another reason why Cassie was more than alright; the Chief had decided to let the fourth-year residents have a chance to do a solo surgery, and while she felt wildly out of place being in charge of a surgical case and wearing a different color, she couldn't hide the fact that she was excited.

(Nervous, too, as their patient was only four years old, and in for a craniosynostosis surgery to treat his misshapen skull. But she was mostly excited.)

Unfortunately, going for the solo surgery in peds came with an issue, as their patient was also a plastics patient, which meant—

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late."

—it was between her and Jackson to decide who actually got the surgery, and who was the assist.

Cassie's eyes narrowed into slits at the sight of her half-brother jogging up to them. Sure, everything was okay between them aside from some residual tension, but this was an attending-level solo surgery.

And it was hers. She'd actually kill him if she had to.

"Not a good look, Avery," Mark declared, and Cassie winced from the volume of his voice so close to her ears. "If you're trying to convince me you're solo-surgery-worthy, you're failing."

Arizona rolled her eyes at Mark again, but she didn't exactly disagree.

Cassie's lips quirked upwards when she questioned him with obvious snark in her tone, "So, what does it feel like to fail? I've never done it, so I wouldn't know."

Perhaps competitiveness ran in their genes, because one look from her had Jackson straightening up his posture, slapping on that so-called Avery charm that Cassie didn't believe existed.

"I had a family emergency, actually."

Cassie snorted. "Let me guess, the emergency was a call from your mommy?"

It was a common occurrence, recently, Catherine Avery calling her son just to yell at him for ten minutes and hang up. It'd happened at least three times a day since their 'biological relation' went public.

"At least I still have a mommy."

Cassie's knee just barely missed his crotch. Clearly, he'd seen the assault coming, because he shifted away at the last second. She only managed to hit his thigh, that little bitch.

"Pussy," she coughed out, not subtle at all.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie watched as Arizona rolled her eyes yet again, impatiently chewing the side of her cheek.

"Not a good look," Mark repeated, his hands moving to his hips while he shook his head in disappointment. "Being pretty can't help you now, bud. Those genes can only do so much."

Cassie blinked, choosing to ignore the fact that her fiancé called her brother pretty and bud in the same sentence.

"I'm sorry, wait a second," Jackson scoffed, his hands moving to his hips as well. Briefly, Cassie wondered how she managed to surround herself with so many dramatic men. "You're judging which of us gets the surgery, and I'm up against your girlfriend. That's a stacked deck."

"Fiancée, first of all," the older man corrected, and Cassie shared a sideways glance with Arizona. "Second, I pride myself on being impartial. It's not my fault you're screwing it up."

Cassie leaned towards Arizona, who seemed entirely fed up with the conversation. Admittedly, Mark was on her side, and it definitely wouldn't hurt for the blonde to be on it as well.

"Arguing with the attending?" she scoffed lowly, in the same tone she often used to gossip with Mark, "That's not gonna help, am I right?"

Arizona smiled at her, passing over the patient's chart with a little bit too much force than necessary. Cassie took it with a quiet oof as it slammed into her stomach.

"Mhm. Neither is kissing ass, Harper."

Not deterred in the slightest, Cassie grinned, flipping open the chart and bouncing on her heels. "Eh, it was worth a shot."

Arizona only shook her head, vaguely amused, and that was that. She took off into the patient's room, leaving the two residents to scramble after her—of course, Mark followed at his usual leisurely pace.

Jackson brushed past Cassie, lowering his head to whisper into her ear a threatening, "I will destroy you."

Cassie rolled her eyes, waiting until he was a pace ahead of her to purposely step on the back of his heel. Her eyes lit up when he nearly fell flat on his face, only catching himself by ungracefully grabbing the doorframe on his way down.

He glared at her. She smiled back.

"Yeah, good luck with that."

━━━━━⭒━━━━━

Cassie cursed under her breath under the dim lighting of the skills lab, frustrated that her chance at the surgery could be taken away all because she couldn't make a straight cut.

Granted, she could, but it wasn't perfect. A bump in the middle was too jagged, and she kept applying too much pressure at the start.

Admittedly, Cassie had fallen from surgical grace in the past year. No one blamed her, of course, but that didn't seem to change the fact that she'd lost the drive and confidence she once had.

But she was trying.

Her life, albeit a bit messy, wasn't in shambles. Her relationship was healthy, her friends—for the most part—were supportive, and as hesitant as she was to truly believe it, she was happy.

But being happy didn't fix the fact that Cassie's success in her work life had faltered while she was busy figuring out all that other life shit.

If getting this surgery would prove that she was still the same genius who'd walked through the front doors of the hospital four years ago, then that's exactly what she'd do.

Well, that's what she wanted to do.

Right now, she was kind of sucking.

"This sucks," she defeatedly admitted to Lexie, who at the same time had glanced over at her incision and complimented, "That looks good!"

Cassie glanced over at the other brunette with her lips set in a sharp frown, quietly appreciating that Lexie decided to eat her lunch in the lab just to keep her company.

"Lex, if I did this to a four-year-old's skull, I would be sued," she deadpanned, tossing aside the practice membrane and grabbing a new one. "I would sue myself."

Lexie made a face, setting down her yogurt to grab the plastic Cassie had tossed aside; bringing it up to her face to observe the line, she squinted, before turning back to Cassie with what could only be described as confusion.

"Okay, I actually can't see anything wrong with it, so I think you might be hallucinating. Do you need to eat something? Do you want my apple?"

"I don't need an apple," Cassie denied.

She didn't bother to look up when the door to the lab opened, as she was too preoccupied with the bone-saw carefully making its way down the center of the practice skull. She overheard Lexie talking to someone, but only caught the last half of her sentence after the incision was complete—

"—doesn't even want my apple, so I think she needs to take a break."

The next thing Cassie felt was a pair of lips pressed against her forehead, which startled her, and the line she was focusing on went jagged.

Mark didn't seem to notice when he took the seat on her left, sending her a grin and visibly resisting the urge to kiss her again.

"You just killed a four-year-old, Mark."

He blinked down at the plastic, the smile never leaving his face. Slowly, he took the sharp instrument from Cassie's hand, replacing it with the apple Lexie must have given him on his way over.

"And you missed lunch, Angel."

All it took was three more seconds of steady eye contact for Cassie to fold and take a bite of the fruit.

"Okay, I'm gonna head back," Lexie interrupted their silent staring match, gathering her things and making her way towards the door. "Cass, eat. Mark, please show some favoritism and teach her how to do the skull thingy before she breaks."

"Craniosynostosis," Mark smoothly corrected her, just as Cassie huffed out a defensive, "I am eating!" around her mouthful. The third-year resident only rolled her eyes before she left.

Of course, Lexie was right that Cassie needed to eat lunch, because she was always right. She'd even left the other half of her sandwich, as if she knew Cassie would want it eventually.

Glancing away from the door, Cassie looked back at Mark, who was already looking at her, his grin still intact.

"You're beautiful when you get all pissed off."

The light slap against his bicep following the statement was anticipated by them both, but she knew he could see the blush forming on her cheeks beneath her scowl.

"I hate you."

"You love me, but sure."

God, she hated it when he was right. Cassie did love him, almost to a concerning degree.

The past several weeks had been rough; recovering from a mass shooting and moving all of her stuff into his apartment was already awful, not to mention the both of them working fourteen-hour shifts six days a week.

But none of that mattered, because she had Mark, who'd been right by her side the entire time.

"If I eat, will you promise to help me?"

Cassie knew he'd say yes, but she gave him her puppy-dog eyes just in case. One can never be too careful.

Mark looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her lips for a short moment, before he glanced back up to her begging gaze. "Eh, that Avery kid never stood a chance anyway."

She let out an ugly snort. "I knew it."

"I will help you, but," Mark prefaced, interrupting what could only be described as his fiancée's evil laughter, "First, you gotta agree to do something for me."

Pausing, Cassie glanced down to his pants.

"Here? Really?"

This time, it was Mark who rolled his eyes, gently flicking her on the tip of her nose at the implication.

"No. First of all, not really into exhibitionism. Second, that door doesn't have a lock, and the last thing I need is for Derek to punch me out again."

Cassie shrugged, entirely indifferent. "I mean, I'm down if you are."

A beat of silence, and suddenly Cassie found herself letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched screech as she felt hands cling onto her waist and hoist her in the air. She came down with an oof, belatedly realizing that Mark had set her in his lap, his arms secured around her waist.

Oh?

Eyeing her suggestive smirk, Mark rolled his eyes, but made no move to push her off his thighs. "This is not what you think it is."

Cassie didn't quite believe that. "Is this a roleplay thing? Am I supposed to be the helpless intern who's begging you to teach her?"

Crinkling his nose in confusion—and also disgust, from what she could tell—Mark scoffed at the mere idea.

"Ugh, no. I just... wanted to hold you."

Oh.

"Oh," she parroted her thoughts, relaxing in his grip. Her head fell to the side, resting against the area between his chest and his shoulder, her legs swung over the opposite side. "Okay. Is something wrong?"

"Nope."

"So just... hugging for no reason?"

"Exactly," Mark grinned, and she felt a soft kiss being pressed against the top of her scalp. "I love you."

Damning the fact that she was blushing, again, Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face close, not quite kissing distance, but with the ability to close it at any second.

"I love you more."

The not possible was silent, but they could both feel it hang in the air. It didn't need to be said, because they knew.

A front piece of her hair fell forwards, and Mark tucked it behind her ear without blinking. "You're feeling okay, right?"

"Yeah, I'm just..." Cassie sighed, her head absentmindedly leaning into his touch, "I think I'd feel better if my friends would actually talk to me instead of going out of their way to ignore me. I didn't even... I mean, do you think I should've told them sooner?"

"About you and Avery being related?" he clarified, and she nodded, biting her lip. "Nah. You were still processing it, and it's not like they even noticed anything was up in the first place."

Yeah, that's what she'd been thinking, too. The longer Cassie thought about it, the more it hurt, until she realized that she hadn't exactly been there for Cristina and Meredith either. At least, not since the whole Gary Clark ordeal.

With a pout, she let out another sigh.

"Do you think it's possible to grow apart from someone, even though you still have love for them?"

"Yeah, I think so," Mark conceded, although he quickly followed it up with a quiet, "But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe you grew apart so you could... grow back together, or something. I don't know."

Cassie nodded. "I should probably talk to them before the surgery. Just to get it out of my head."

"And to make room in there for what I'm about to teach you," he grinned, reaching an arm around her to grab the practice tools once again. "Little Grey was right, your lines looked good, but you were right too."

Frowning, she slid over into the chair she'd been in previously, her brief emotions disregarded in favor of getting better at the surgical technique and subsequently kicking Jackson's ass.

"About what, that I suck?"

Mark rolled his eyes, fondly placing yet another kiss to the side of her head, before placing the bone-saw back into her hands.

"No. You don't suck, you're amazing, but you are holding the instrument too tight. C'mere, let me show you."

Mark's arms wrapped around her own, his fingers interlacing over hers and pulling her grip looser, and Cassie couldn't help but blush.

(Maybe the whole "teach me" kink could be fun, especially if he kept putting his arms around her like that—)

As if reading her mind, Mark huffed a laugh from behind her, his breath on her neck, sending a shiver down her back.

"Focus, Dr. Harper."

Cassie wasn't sure how she could learn with him in such close proximity, but the thought of Jackson whining for weeks about how 'the surgery should've been his!' sobered her up quickly.

"Shut up, Mark."

She could feel his grin on the side of her neck.

━━━━━⭒━━━━━

If you'd asked Cristina Yang what she thought about Cassie and Jackson being half-siblings, she would have told you this; I really don't give a fuck.

Maybe she would have, a few months before. Maybe she would have short-circuited, or passed out, or there would have been literal steam coming from her ears like a Looney-Tunes character.

But now? She really didn't care.

Why would she? There were people dying. There were people relying on her to live. Just like Derek was, back when there was a gun pointed at her skull. When Meredith was crying and begging for her to save her husbands life, when Gary Clark—

Yeah. So, excuse her for not worrying about her friend's useless personal drama.

Although, Meredith seemed to care a lot, for some reason. Maybe because Cassie lied, or maybe because she needed something to focus on other than the miscarriage she'd had when she thought her husband was dying right in front of her eyes.

Probably the latter, but knowing all of Meredith's crap, having a miscarriage was just another Tuesday afternoon.

Speaking of the dark and twisty blonde—

"Can you believe Derek is sitting in on Cassie's solo surgery right before mine?"

Blinking up at Meredith, who stood in front of her with a grimace, Cristina shrugged. "She's cutting into a kid's skull, Mer. You really want Sloan to be the only adult in that room?"

"He was supposed to help me prepare," she shook her head, the dark haired woman's words going in one ear and out the other. "They're not even talking. And you and I both know she'd be fine without supervision."

Cristina didn't have a hard time nodding along in agreement, because Cassie was a great surgeon.

(Not as great as her, but very, very good.)

"They're not talking 'cause he's a liar. Although, you knew that when you married him, so."

Meredith's glare was almost strong enough to put Cristina into a good mood. Not quite, though.

"Whatever. She may be cutting into a skull, but I'm cutting into a brain," the blonde emphasized with a huff.

Cristina rolled her eyes, the patient chart in her grasp slamming shut as she did. "Reconstructing a skull trumps clipping an aneurysm, sorry. Also, I'm busy, so go complain to... Alex, or something."

"Oh, didn't you hear? He's her new bestie."

Pausing her movement to walk away from the conversation, Cristina sighed. She really didn't have the energy to listen to Meredith be bitter all day, nor the patience required to think about her potentially deteriorating friendships. There was a patient, a dying patient, who was depending on her.

That alone was more than she could handle.

"Yeah, probably because he's filling the O'Malley-shaped hole in her heart," Cristina snapped, and Meredith only then seemed to realize that now wasn't a great time. "Let it go, Mer."

"I just—"

"Not everything is about you."

Seeing that as a good enough place as any to leave the conversation, Cristina shrugged, a silent sorry, but I'm right, and took off down the hallway.

━━━━━⭒━━━━━

By the time Mark and Arizona had tested them on their technique, it was a no-brainer that the solo surgery would go to Cassie. Jackson was, as expected, not happy.

"You don't even like plastics."

Cassie raised a brow at him as she finished tying her scrup cap at the nape of her neck. "I am quite literally engaged to the Head of Plastic Surgery, Jackson. I think I like it just fine."

"Yeah, but it's not your specialty," he corrected himself, though just as bitter as he was earlier in the day. "I thought you were into neuro, that's why I changed my specialty to plastics."

Shrugging, she began to scrub her hands clean, watching him reluctantly follow suit. It wasn't as if he couldn't be in the surgery at all; Cassie thought he'd make a great assist.

(There was definitely no sign of gloating on her face, either. Absolutely none.)

"I haven't decided yet, but I—I don't know, I'm pretty interested in peds, I think? Granted, I'll have to compete with Alex, but whatever." Sparing him a glance, she added confusedly, "Wait, you switched your specialty because of me?"

Silently, she prayed to god this wouldn't add even more drama to her life. She still hadn't found the time to talk to Meredith or Cristina yet, but she got the feeling that if they didn't want to talk to her either, the conversation could wait.

That being said, her anxiety had only gone down a fraction compared to where it was before, and the thought of having shaky hands in the OR was slowly but steadily making it worse.

Jackson didn't look her way, as if he were embarrassed to answer the question. Cassie frowned.

"Half the hospital thinks we're liars, and the other half thinks we're some kind of wonder-twins," he shrugged. "I don't know, wouldn't being in the same specialty attract even more attention?"

"I mean, probably, but who cares?"

"Me," Jackson emphasized with a huff, "I care. I know it doesn't seem like a big deal to you, but the news of us being related getting out the way it did... the Foundation's getting a lot of bad press, and my grandfather is really not happy with me."

Cassie couldn't help but to feel bad.

In a way, it was kind of her fault it got out in the first place. She let it slip to Amelia, who let it slip to the whole world—then again, if Derek had told her in the first place, all of it could've been avoided.

And speaking as someone who'd met Harper Avery... he was, admittedly, not a man who you'd want to be angry with you.

(The guy was scary sometimes.)

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault," Jackson sighed, wiping his hands off with a clean towel. "I just wish everyone would mind their own business, ya know?"

"Jackson, I love you, but you're at Seattle Grace Mercy Death," Cassie joked, "A hospital known for it's lack of business-minding surgeons."

He only laughed, bumping her shoulder with his own as as walked past her and into the OR.

Cassie paused after he did, turning off the water and staring through the glass window as her brother moved to stand next to her fiancé, who only gave him a nod as a greeting.

It was then, Cassie realized, that she'd just told Jackson she loved him for the first time. Because he was her brother, and she did.

Oddly enough, as nice as that felt, it just served as a reminder that she hadn't spoken to Derek in weeks.

Because she was mad at him. God, she was so mad at him. For lying for thirteen years, for treating her poorly just because he was having a bad day, for taking advantage of her kindness time and time again. She was so mad, really, she was.

But he apologized.

More than once, he said he was sorry, that he knew he was wrong for hiding the truth, that he shouldn't have expected her to immediately accept every apology he gave her. He gave her space, he gave her time, and when he messed up again, he apologized again, too.

Cassie wasn't quite sure what it was, this feeling she had in her chest. Maybe she just missed him, plain and simple.

Maybe, subconsciously, she knew that she'd need him soon. Maybe her brain was preparing her for the future, for whatever was next in store.

Honestly, she didn't really care what the reason was. All Cassie knew, was that she wanted to hug her big brother again.

And so, when an unassuming Derek walked into the scrub room, and she did just that, not caring if she'd have to scrub in again.

Meredith and Cristina weren't talking to her, her cats had recently started sleeping on Mark's side of the bed, and maybe Cassie had some abandonment issues after her mom and Denny and George and Ethan; suddenly, all of that went away, and she was home again.

Maybe it was cheesy, the fact that she almost teared up. Maybe it wasn't a big deal at all that she forgave him—god knows she'd done it before—but when Derek hugged her back, everything fell into place.

"Are you— Cass, are you okay?"

Derek sounded as concerned for her well-being as he had the day she'd been shot (the first time), and it was almost nostalgic, in the weirdest way possible.

Perhaps she also missed his constant doting.

"Yeah," her voice was muffled against his scrub top, "Just missed you."

"I—" Derek stuttered, very clearly not expecting the onslaught of emotion at four-in-the-afternoon on a Tuesday, "I didn't go anywhere."

Cassie shrugged, though it was more of a twitch against him, because fuck, she was holding him tight. She knew it was hurting him a bit, based on the fact that he sucked his stomach in to make room, but she didn't really care.

"No, but I think I did."

Derek tensed for a moment, and then relaxed, his chin moving to rest against the top of her head. If Cassie had been looking up, she would've seen him and Mark exchange a look through the glass. A smile, maybe, if she looked closely.

"I missed you too."

Cassie squeezed tighter. "I'm still mad at you."

Derek winced, but didn't pull away. "I know."

"You're an asshole."

"I know."

━━━━━⭒━━━━━

Cassie pulled Mark through the entrance of their shared apartment by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the door the second he twisted the lock.

"Oh, hello," he smiled down at her, appreciating the switch from their usual dynamic of her being the one pushed up against doors. It was nice to change things up every once in a while, he presumed.

"Hi," she smiled innocently, her actions betraying her expression as she—rather forcefully—removed his leather jacket from his shoulders. "You were a very good teacher today."

"Was I?"

"Mhm."

Mark tried to place his hands on either side of her waist, but Cassie caught them in her grasp, holding them together with one hand while pulling his face down for a kiss with the other.

He almost fainted right then and there.

After a few moments, he pulled away, breathing so heavily that he'd be embarrassed if one of his guy-friends saw. "Well, you're in a mood."

Cassie giggled, which made him almost faint again, and he watched her pull her shirt off with record speed, only to immediately go back to her former position, but this time, she let him touch her back.

"Today, I wore dark blue scrubs, pulled off a risky surgery basically by myself, kicked Jackson's ass, and made up with Derek," she boasted, and it never failed to make him ridiculously happy when she was happy. "So, excuse me for wanting to end the day by fucking my hot fiancé."

This woman, he groaned internally, but his thoughts were silenced by her mouth against his for the second time.

A beat passed, and pulled away again, both to take a breath and to add hurriedly, "That's great, but can we please shut up about your brothers, because I'd much rather—oh, that's—"

At some point, Cassie's hand went down his pants, and fuck, she knew exactly what she was doing.

Mark couldn't be entirely sure, but he may have blacked out, because he couldn't remember a thing until he was startled back into reality by a fist banging on the door, only inches away from where his back was still pressed.

(He opened his eyes, confused by the lack of Cassie in front of him, only to realize that—oh, okay—she was on her knees now.)

"Mark Everett Sloan!" Arizona's voice boomed throughout their shared hallway and through the crevices of their front door. "Shut the hell up! Take it into the bedroom, that's what they're for! And Cassie, dear god, let the man breathe!"

Angry footsteps echoed for the next few moments, until a door slammed shut in the near distance, and silence ensued.

Slowly, Mark craned his neck downward, where Cassie remained, a hand slapped over her mouth and her shoulders shaking with laughter.

He couldn't help but to let out a snort, which would've been far less embarrassing if he didn't currently have his dick sticking out of his pants.

"Bedroom?" Mark eventually choked out through his laughter, but Cassie just shook her head, finally gaining enough control over her body to stop giggling.

"No."

Raising a brow at her, and then at his situation, and back to her, he let out a mixture of a chuckle and scoff. "No?"

Cassie, with a devilish gleam in her eyes that made him weak in the knees, sat up straight and quickly removed her bra, tossing it across the room without a care in the world.

"You can be quiet, yeah?"

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Yeah."

Cassie grinned, and he knew he was in for it.

"Are you sure, baby?"

Mark bit the inside of his cheek. This woman.

"Please."

author's note ━━━━━━━━
user fxllmoons writing something spicier
than a touch on the shoulder??? alert the
media!

also, buckle up for the next chapter bc it's,
um... yeah. and because i know i'll get some
comments, cassie is not pregnant, so try a
different theory!

x