CHAPTER SIXTY NINE
family line.
a series of flashbacks.

NEW YORK, AUGUST 1990

DEREK SHEPHERD WOULD LIKE TO MAKE ONE THING VERY CLEAR; HE WAS NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, A LIAR. He actually prided himself on his ability to tell the truth, even when it was hard, and especially when it made him look like a total asshole. Sure, he cheated on a few tests in undergrad, and sure, it was only yesterday that he lied to his professor about being able to list the steps to an atherectomy, but still. Derek told the truth, at least, when he thought it mattered.

Which, although an admirable trait, led him to the predicament he was currently in; sitting next to his crying eight-year-old pseudo-sister, who may or may not have been crying because of him.

(In his defense, all he did was tell the truth.)

"Cass, I didn't mean that it was ugly," Derek halfheartedly corrected himself, a hand on the young girl's weeping shoulder. "I just meant that maybe you could get it tailored, or something, just so it fits better, you know?"

Cassie sat on her bed with her legs crossed, elbows on her knees as she cried into her hands. Deep down, she knew she was being dramatic, but when you're a kid, everything seems like the end of the goddamn world.

"I-I don't have any money," she stuttered out between sobs, the crack of her voice making Derek regret saying anything at all. "I only had ten dollars! Now I-I'm gonna look fucking stupid at Nancy's wedding."

It was the cheapest nice dress in stock at Goodwill, so despite it being about three sizes too big, it was pretty much Cassie's only option.

It was knee-length and firetruck red, puffed out in all the wrong places, and practically swallowed her whole, but still, it was nice.

Cassie didn't own very many nice things, and she was excited to show it to Derek, until he mentioned the obvious; Cass, why'd you pick that one? It doesn't fit right.

She knew he was just being honest, but she sorta wished that he wouldn't be.

"Language," Derek scolded halfheartedly, knowing that with a mother like Bonnie Harper, there was only so much he could do to steer her away from the f-bombs. "And why didn't you just say so? I would have bought you a nicer one if you'd asked me—"

Cassie shook her head, dropping her hands into her lap as she looked up at him. "I'm not allowed to ask you for stuff anymore."

"What?" Derek's brows caved inwards, frowning at the way she avoided his eye. "Why not?"

"Mommy says that she's tired of you treating us like a charity case. She thinks it's imperious."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "How do you even know that word?"

Cassie shrugged offhandedly, speaking through the rubber bands on her braces. "I don't know, I'm a genius."

Derek rolled his eyes, sighing heavily at the fact he knew all too well.

Sometimes, he forgot how intelligent she was; other times, though, he really had to work to remind himself that she was just a child.

For a moment, he glanced between her and the monstrosity of a dress she wore, before getting to his feet and gesturing for her to go with him. Cassie didn't move, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she looked at him with confusion.

"Look, Cass, you know I love your mom, but she can be a little... prideful, sometimes," he started, walking over to her and grabbing her hand so she'd stand up. "Besides, what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

Cassie stared at him with vague suspicion as she toyed with the foot-long chiffon ribbon sticking out from her side. "So... you'll fix it?"

"What?" Derek shook his head, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Oh, god, no. No, we're raiding Amy's closet instead."

Slowly, Cassie let a smile slip over her features. Despite the fact that the youngest Shepherd sister may have not been her biggest fan, Cassie had always looked up to her nonetheless. Besides, not only was Amelia cool, but she could also afford to buy more dresses if Cassie just so happened to 'misplace' one. "Really?"

Derek mimicked her grin. "Really. She probably won't even notice. Just don't tell your mom you got it from me, otherwise she'll try to pay me back for it. Deal?"

Despite the fact that she wished she could argue, Cassie knew that Derek was right. Bonnie was prideful, almost to a fault, refusing to accept help from anyone (even if she needed it).

While Carol Shepherd, one of her closest friends, lived comfortably in a five bedroom household, Bonnie and Cassie bounced from apartment to apartment, leaving to find a new one each time the rent was raised by greedy landlords.

Her best friend since childhood, Denny Duquette, resided in an Upper East Side penthouse; and yet, Bonnie refused to take the spare guest room for longer than a few nights, opting to live in rat infested studio apartments instead.

But Cassie never complained, not once.

Not when she was left alone for two days straight while her mom worked a triple shift at the 24 hour diner down the road, nor when her mom couldn't make take her to the New York Public School's Spelling Bee Championship, so she had to walk the four miles, instead.

Cassie never complained, because if it weren't for her, Bonnie wouldn't have to work so hard in the first place. It was Cassie who racked up her mother's debt at such a young age, and it was Cassie who needed money for frivolous and unnecessary things like pretty dresses.

(And sometimes, that made her feel like a mistake.)

Derek was different than her mom, or Denny, or Carol, though. Derek didn't care about money, or at least, not when it came to her. He was a full-time student, and yet he still took a chunk out of his savings each month to take Cassie shopping, and out to eat, and to play laser tag, and everything else that she enjoyed but didn't have access to without him. Carol said it wasn't smart to disregard his savings, but honestly, Derek could care less, as long as he was there to see the way Cassie's face lit up when he spent time with her where her mother couldn't. He made her feel important, and to him, that's all that mattered.

Blinking out of her thoughts, Cassie squeezed the hand that was still in her own. The thought of finally owning something really nice made her practically shake with excitement, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips when she gazed up at Derek with gratitude.

"Deal."

(Honesty is good, while it lasts.)

NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 1995

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit... shit!"

Papers, reciepts, documents, trash, all sprawled across the floor in unorganized piles beneath mountains of containers, the entire room seeming as though a silent tornado had hit only minutes prior. A thirteen-year-old Cassie sat on her heels in the middle of the chaos, dyed purple hair tied into a loose, frayed knot on the top of her skull.

Bonnie stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her blue waitress uniform, the pressure causing her metal nametag to dig into her skin. Cassie failed to notice her presence, continuing to toss file after file behind her as if they should have been thrown in the garbage years ago. Each drawer of her desk was emptied out completely, and yet, Cassie continued searching.

"Munchkin," the older woman drawled out, the untidiness concerning her, since her daughter was practically the most nitpicking clean-freak she'd ever come across. "You okay in here?"

Cassie didn't respond, or even acknowledge her at all, the rustling of papers beginning to give Bonnie a migraine. "Shit, shit, shit—"

"Cassie, did you h—"

"What?" Head snapping to the side, she raised a curt brow, not meaning to be rude but also wildly, unequivocally stressed. "Sorry, I just—" she gestured into the air, "Kinda busy, here."

"I'm leaving for work... so..." Bonnie attempted to ignore whatever the hell was going on in front of her, not having the best track record of understanding her daughter's antics. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She tried, she really did, but Cassie was just so different from herself. Cassie was smart, unusually so, but she was also anxious, and stubborn, and opinionated. Cassie had chosen to be a vegetarian since she was six, and Bonnie still couldn't remember which animal pork came from half the time.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," Cassie rushed out, squinting down at a piece of paper before promptly ripping it to shreds. "Will you be home tonight, or should I bike over to Den's?"

"No, no, I convinced Derek to come over and spend the night. His shift ended a little bit ago, so he should be here soon."

Cassie sighed. "Better than nothing, I guess."

Bonnie nodded, guilt tugging at her heartstrings. She really didn't want to leave her for so long, again, but she also needed the extra cash. "Have you eaten lunch?"

"Hm? Oh, I don't... no, I don't think so."

"You should come down to the restaurant," Bonnie smiled encouragingly, trying to get her away from all the mess. "Veggie sandwich on me, yeah?"

Cassie rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the very notion were utterly preposterous. She didn't have time to go down to the restaurant, because the applications for early acceptance were due in less than a week; how her mother didn't get that, was beyond her. "I know you didn't go to college, so you don't understand what's happening here, but I really don't have time, mom."

Bonnie took the attitude with grace, knowing it was a reflection of her daughter's situation rather than her.

"Well, I'm sure Derek will be more than happy to help out with... whatever you're doing."

Cassie just nodded with a quiet, "Mhm," and a groan escaping her mouth when she opened another drawer and still couldn't find it.

Bonnie chose not to ask any more questions, only observing for a moment more before saying, "G'night, Munchkin, I love you."

Cassie sent her a wave, not picking her head up from whatever document she was giving a once over. "Yeah, bye, love you."

(God motherfucking dammit, her birth certificate had to be somewhere around here, didn't it?)

This didn't happen to Cassie, ever. Cassie didn't lose things. But it had only just occurred to her, when she read over the guidelines for Columbia University admissions which stated that they required proof of birth, that she'd never actually seen it before. And she would definitely be aware if she had, having a photographic memory, and all.

Asking her mom where it was seemed like the obvious option, only Cassie knew her mom well enough to also know that the older woman wouldn't have the first clue where it would be.

The two had a system; Bonnie gave Cassie the important documents, and Cassie filed them away into the large organization shelf she kept in her room. But low and behold, her birth certificate was nowhere to be found, despite her looking in the exact place Bonnie would have put it.

Cassie wasn't sure how long she'd been searching for the one piece of paper, but before she knew it, the front door lock was jiggling, and Derek was standing in her doorway, mimicking the way her mother stood not long before.

"What, did you have a breakdown, or something?"

(It was, despite the sarcastic tone of his voice, a genuine question.)

May as well have, Cassie thought bitterly, dusting herself off as he helped her up and back onto her feet.

Now in the center of the madness, Derek glanced around, eyes wide while he attempted and miserably failed to understand what was going on. He raised a single brow in silent concern, Cassie just barely catching the expression out of the corner of her eye.

"Do you know where mom put my birth certificate when we moved?" Cassie questioned him with a frown. "I can't find it, and I, like, really need it."

Derek shrugged, entirely clueless. "No idea."

"Ugh, wonderful." Throwing her head back with a grunt, she plopped herself back onto the floor with a thud, hardly even wincing at the impact her ass made on the hard, cheap carpet. Watching on with amusement, Derek crouched down to her level, tilting his head ever so slightly. Noticing the way her hair was falling off to the side, he reached out, tightening the bun so it would stay in place.

"Need some help, Cass?"

Cassie huffed. "Please."

And that's how it started, Cassie and Derek spending their night tearing away at the tiny apartment.

Bookshelves were practically knocked over, their contents spilling onto the floor along with whatever was occupying the junk drawer in the kitchen.

Four hours later, they still hadn't found it.

"This is hopeless!" Cassie shouted out of frustration, her weak arms pushing yet another organization unit to the ground. Derek sent her a firm glare, passive aggressively picking it up and putting it back where it belonged. "That's it! I'm gonna end up a pathetic loser with no life and no job, all because I lost a stupid piece of fucking paper!"

Derek couldn't help but roll his eyes at her dramatics. "You're a thirteen-year-old applying to Columbia, Cass. I think you'll be fine."

Not seeming to hear a word he said, she got distracted by the sight of two storage bins sitting on top of the fridge.

Scoffing at herself for being so oblivious, Cassie walked right past Derek, dragging over a stool and stepping onto it with zero hesitation or fear of falling. Haphazardly snatching the bins from their place collecting dust, she threw them to the ground, nearly hitting an annoyed Derek in the head.

"Okay, this is the last possible place it could be," Cassie sighed, jumping off the stool and tripping over her own two feet when she landed. Her hands on her hips, she raised a brow at Derek. "You checked everywhere I said, right?"

"Yep."

"Even mom's room?"

Derek paused. "Uh..."

All it took was one look on her face for him to know that was not the right answer.

Which led him to the current moment, rifling through practically all of Bonnie's things while trying not to feel like a total creep (he did his best not to make a mess, putting things exactly back where he found them, but that only made him feel creepier, for some reason).

So far, he'd managed to go through all of her drawers, her closet, and the hidden chest disguised as a footstool, and yet, nothing. He was, barring all logic, starting to think that Cassie just didn't have a birth certificate in the first place.

It wasn't until something under the bed caught his eye, that he began to grow the slightest bit of hope.

Getting down on the floor in a seated position, Derek removed the shoebox which rested beneath the right side of the bed, tucked away in a spot he never would have thought to look if it hadn't crossed his eyeline just now.

He flipped open the lid, coming face-to-face with... a teddy bear?

Bewildered, he set the stuffed animal to the side, pulling out the next thing closest to the surface. A small blanket covered the rest of the items in the box, and it was only then that he realized that it was a box of Cassie's old baby stuff; he would be able recognize the tattered, duck-print blanket in his hand any day. Smiling to himself, he held it for a moment, before setting it next to the teddy bear and reaching in to grab what was next.

He picked it up, freezing in his tracks at the sight of an official document titled CIVIL/FAMILIAL NO CONTACT ORDER. Eyes squinting down at the names, hardly legible due to the obvious wear and tear of the paper, he made out the words 'Bonnie and Cassie Harper, June 20th, 1982, filing against Robert Avery for a maximum order of protection for 5 years, signed by Judge Bernthal in the State of New York. To be renewed every 5 years'.

(Robert Avery? As in... no, no way.)

Derek had never heard anything about a no contact order against anyone, and he was about a hundred percent sure that Cassie hadn't, either. It wasn't until he did a double-take at the date in the top right corner, when he realized — oh my fucking god, that's her birthday, and this is a — no fucking way — his grip got tighter and tighter until the document practically ripped in half, before he let go all at once. There was just no fucking way.

His eyes trailed back down to the shoebox, and with bated breath, he removed the thick cardstock resting at the very bottom, flipping it over to reveal it's contents.

The good news? He found her birth certificate.

The bad news? He found her birth father.

Now, Derek was, out of everyone Cassie loved, the absolute worst person suitable to break the news that her father was the disgraced bastard child of the Harper Avery. For a moment he had hope that, in a perfect world full of rainbows and sunshine and unicorns, her birth father was an entirely different Robert Avery who just so happened to live in or around New York. He had hope that the '1982 Avery Cheating Scandal' that rocked the medical world was simply a coincidence, and that this was all a big misunderstanding, and he didn't have to tell Cassie anything.

But once he found a polaroid photo of the real Robert Avery stashed at the bottom of the box, an arm around Bonnie's shoulders and another on her stomach, his hope was violently smashed into a million little pieces.

"Der, did you find it?"

Derek Shepherd was a honest man. He always had been.

"No, uh, not yet!"

Carefully, he tucked the items back into the box and under Bonnie's bed, pushing it as far towards the center as he could. He stood, dusting himself off with shaking fingers, closing the door on his way out as he exited the room.

(The first lie is always the most deadly.)

SOUTHHAMPTON BEACH, JUNE 2000

Cassie had always loved to celebrate her birthday.

Bonnie never had much money, but Cassie's birthday was the one day of the year when she would let her daughter be spoiled rotten by her friends.

Carol Shepherd and Denny Duquette, two people who hardly ever interacted at all, would come together on the twentieth of June, credit cards in hand and cash in their pockets, prepared to spend hundreds upon hundreds of dollars on the girl they saw as a daughter.

Though, Denny usually had to work, but he would always be involved in the party planning and gift buying aspect of the day.

Never one to let things go unappreciated, Cassie would thank them until she was blue in the face, but she would also enjoy the hell out of it; in her humble opinion, her birthday was inevitably and without fail the absolute best day of the year.

Cassie had never backed down from a celebration in her name, but this birthday was even more exciting, because Cassie Harper was finally a legal adult.

Not that anything would change, really, since she would still be living with her mom in a cramped apartment, spending Derek's money (he was a neurosurgeon, he could afford it), and drinking too much on the weekends, but still.

Being an adult also came with perks, like, she could finally get a part-time job to help pay for med school, and she could also... serve jury duty, or something.

Cassie hadn't had much time to think about it, being preoccupied with applying to NYU, getting into NYU, and filling out paperwork for NYU.

Medical school seemed as though it was really going to challenge her; she'd already recieved summer homework from one of her professors, Dr. Caldwell, who taught some form of biology, and she actually had to look up the answers to a few questions because she didn't already know them; for Cassie, this was a more exciting first than losing her virginity.

(But none of that mattered right now, because today was her birthday, and fuck, if she wasn't going to party.)

"Munchkin, did you put on sunscreen?!"

Cassie could hardly hear her mother's question as she sprinted into the ocean, diving head-first into a massive wave which knocked her directly onto her back.

Bonnie winced from her place in the shade, relaxing on the sand under a large umbrella. Well, relaxing as much as she could while her daughter was busy playing shark bait.

A silk scarf was wrapped around her head, the fabric concealing what little hair she had left after a few recent rounds of chemotherapy.

She didn't wear a bathing suit, as the amount of weight she'd lost made her uncomfortable, but a grin remained on her face as she watched her daughter play around like a kid again.

The breast cancer overtaking her body was wildly aggressive, and she knew it very well might be the death of her at some point in the near future, but the mere sight of Cassie's beaming grin made the fight worth it.

"Addie, come on!"

Cassie exited the water, immediately running back to the beach to grab Addison's hand, not giving her a chance to object while pulling her into the ocean with a devilish grin. Despite the fact that she'd only known Derek's girlfriend for less than a year, she adored her, the woman taking residence as one of Cassie's closest friends in the span of only a few months. Addison was just about a million times more mature than Cassie, and over a decade older, yet somehow, they'd always just clicked.

"Stop, Cassie—" she huffed, shocked at the strength of the younger girl while she tried and failed to resist being dragged into the water. "I don't swim!"

Cassie splashed her in the face. "Lighten up, grandma."

Addison froze at the feeling of her hair and makeup being drenched, her Chanel mascara smearing beneath her eyes. She scoffed a laugh, sending Cassie a threatening glare, before splashing her back with far more force than she initially intended. Cassie jolted back at the pressure, letting out a mixture of a giggle and a scream, before splashing her back, again, only for Addison to do the same thing, again.

This went on for several minutes.

Meanwhile, Derek left Addison's brother over by their cabana, in favor of taking the spare seat next to Bonnie, who's head was stuck in some beach-read romance novel.

(His excuse was that he needed to talk to the older woman, but he'd never really been a fan of Archer in the first place, so it all worked out in the end.)

"How are you feeling?"

Bonnie carefully rested her book on her lap, making sure to dog-ear the page before she closed it. "I've felt better."

Derek just sighed, the tiniest of smiles on his face when he looked at her. He was a doctor, a surgeon, and he knew exactly what she was going through.

He knew how exhausted she got just by walking up the stairs, and how she lost a part of her identity when she lost all of her hair.

He knew how she was putting on a brave face for her daughter, but he also knew that Cassie could see right through it, while choosing to pretend not to for her sick mother's sake.

Derek knew how hard it was for them right now, and he also knew that he was about to make it worse.

"She's eighteen."

Bonnie swallowed harshly. "Not today, Derek."

Derek tensed, the smile slipping from his face in an instant. Carefully, he tracked her gaze, landing on Cassie and Addison in the water, each of them blissfully unaware of the issue at hand.

"You told me... no, you promised me... that you'd tell her when she turned eighteen." Hesitantly, he craned his neck to the side so he could look her in the eye, the intensity of his stare making her shift in place. "She's eighteen, Bonnie."

(A fact Bonnie had been trying to forget all day.)

"Hardly," was her reply, removing the book from her lap and setting it off to the side. "Besides, I am not ruining her birthday. I mean, just look at her, look how happy she is."

At this particular moment in time, Derek didn't really care how happy she was, because it was all a lie.

Every conversation over the past five years, every time he babysat or helped her with her homework or took her out to eat, he was lying, his fingers crossed behind his back like a sinner in the confession booth. And fuck, he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

"Do you... do you really not feel guilty?"

Bonnie quickly checked to make sure Cassie remained far away when she replied, "Of course I feel guilty."

"Really?" Derek shook his head, the deep anger buried in his chest rising to the surface. "Yeah, no, you seem really broken up about the whole thing."

Her head snapping towards him, Bonnie send him a glare, harsh enough to shut him up, at least for a few seconds.

Guilt was something rather familiar to her, specifically involving Cassie. Despite wanting nothing more than to be a good mother, she'd majorly fucked up on endlesss occasions throughout Cassie's life; and despite her objectively bad parenting skills, Cassie loved her anyways, which only increased the guilt, in the end.

Bonnie knew guilt; she didn't need Derek Shepherd to give her a lesson on it.

"Jesus christ, Derek! I do feel guilty, okay? I feel guilty every single fucking day, but that does not mean that I'm wrong!" Speaking through clenched teeth, she lowered her voice when she noticed people staring. "Robert Avery was a lying, cheating, scumbag piece of shit who wanted nothing to do with me or my daughter, so please forgive me for not wanting to spend her eighteenth birthday breaking the joyful news that her father never loved her!"

Derek wanted to sympathize, he really did. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was wrong about the man, considering everything he'd done out in the open over the years.

But five years prior, when he came to Bonnie with a list of accusations and scoldings prepared in his back pocket, she'd started crying.

He remembered the way she wept, the information being a secret to everyone in her life, well, other than Robert's immediate family members.

She'd cried, and cried, and cried, not long before she begged him not to tell her. Told him that the no contact order would be deemed invalid when Cassie turned eighteen, and that the moment she did, Bonnie would tell her, immediately.

Looking at her with a mixture of anger and pity, Derek let out a harsh scoff, being smacked in the face with the realization that Bonnie had been lying to him for the past five years just to keep him quiet.

She never planned to tell Cassie, not at all, not in any way, and now he was a liar, too.

"So what am I supposed to do, huh?" It came out sarcastic, but really, he needed to know. "I'm just supposed to... what, pretend I don't know?"

"You haven't had any trouble with it so far."

Derek clenched his jaw.

"What if she asks me?"

"She won't," Bonnie rolled her eyes. "All she knows is that he was some deadbeat who left me the moment she popped out of my uterus. Besides, she has Den, so she sure as hell doesn't need him."

Derek almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yeah? You don't think she deserves to know that her grandfather is basically the god of medicine? Or, that she might have some cousins or— I-I don't know, half-siblings out there?" Bonnie just looked at him. "Bonnie, just think about her for one goddamn minute—"

"She is all I think about," she snapped, chest heaving with some sort of deep rooted anger and protectiveness. "She is my daughter, Derek, not yours!"

Derek paused. "That's not the—"

"She is my daughter, and I am dying." Choking back tears, Bonnie took in a deep breath. "I'd prefer not spend the little time I have left trying to win back her forgiveness for something that I had no control over. So help me god, if you even think about telling her before I have the chance, I guarantee that she will never speak to you again. You got it?"

He didn't get it; that was the issue.

He didn't get how you could love someone so much while lying to their face for years, whether or not they were aware of it. He didn't get how such an incredible mother could make such an awful decision, or how he was expected to blindly go along with said decision without so much as putting up a fight.

Cassie was young, but she was also mature enough to handle whatever may come her way.

To him, she'd been through too much shit to have something so big be kept from her, especially when he knew she'd be able to take it with at least some form of grace; but only if they told her now.

(He really didn't want to be there when this inevitably blew up in their faces down the line, however far away it may be.)

The sound of laughing broke both Derek and Bonnie from their stupor, their mutual gaze shifting over to where Derek had been sitting with Archer before. Even from the distance, he could see Archer passing Cassie a beer while Addison dried off from their stint in the ocean.

The action made both of them pause, though, Bonnie let the situation go almost immediately; out of everyone, she wasn't one to judge her daughter's drinking habits.

Derek, on the other hand? Not so much.

It wasn't just that Archer gave her a beer, which was illegal, but it was also the way he looked at her while he did. Cassie had only been an adult for ten hours, and grown men were already being total pervs towards her.

Almost as if he weren't in control of his own body, Derek got to his feet, leaving Bonnie alone as he marched in Archer's direction.

"Okay, fine, but only one, alright?"

Cassie winked at Archer in a playful manner, her puppy dog eyes once again pulling through for her. In one fell swoop, she'd managed to use her doe-eyes, the birthday excuse, and Addison to get what she wanted; an excessively expensive beer from Archer's personal cooler he'd brought along with him.

"Awe, you're too kind."

"You better not be getting a big head on me, kid," Archer warned, making eye contact with an amused Addison. "With that brain, we'll need to work on keeping her massively large ego in check."

Addison nodded in agreement almost immediately, making Cassie slap her arm in offense. "Oh, definitely. It's becoming an issue."

"Says the one dating Derek Shepherd," Cassie joked.

Archer snorted. "I always knew I liked y—"

His sentence was cut short when Derek's fist collided with his nose, sending him flying towards the ground, the side of his head colliding into the cooler with a loud bang. Shortly thereafter, he lost consciousness, leaving the two women in stunned silence; Derek stood next to them, panting from the physical exertion, feeling oddly unbothered about what he'd just done, but feeling better than he had moments ago nonetheless.

(Misplaced anger, a voice said in the back of his head, which he promptly chose to ignore.)

"Derek!" was all Addison screeched out, whipping out her cellphone at the speed of lighting and dialing 911 while she attempted to wake her brother.

Cassie watched Addison panic and apply pressure with a towel to Archer's nose, the blood coming out faster than she could handle.

Slowly, Cassie turned to face the culprit of the mess with a blank, and slightly frightened, stare. She wasn't sure what had just come over him, but there had to be a good reason for him punching Archer out without an ounce of remorse... right?

"Why... why did you do that?"

The rush of anger subsiding, Derek paused, not entirely sure of the answer. "He was being a creep, Cass. He... he was looking at you—"

"Oh," Cassie interrupted, as if she were scolding herself for even thinking of giving him the benefit of the doubt. It wasn't the first time that day in which Derek had acted strangely; just that morning, he'd been a total asshole to their waiter at the café, not-so-subtly implying that he was hitting on her (the man was wearing a wedding ring). "Oh, okay."

"Cass—"

"He was looking at me?" Cassie repeated, dumbfounded by her pseudo-brother's idiocy. Raising her voice to a shout, she gained the attention of nearly everyone nearby, including her own mother, when she yelled, "Hey, somebody alert the media, Archer Montgomery looked at me! Better send a SWAT team out to protect me, who knows what could possibly go wrong!"

It only took a split second for Bonnie to begin making her way over, moving as fast as she could despite her weakened muscles making it difficult to walk on the sand. "What's going on?"

No one replied to her, including Cassie, who was busy glaring at Derek, who was cradling his bruised fist closely to his chest. "Cass, I didn't—"

"Seriously, on my birthday, you—"

"Munchkin, maybe you should just—"

"No," Cassie snapped at her mother, facing Derek once again with an air of vexation, "No, you know what, you've been acting weird all day, Derek, so what the fuck is going on with you?!"

He could tell her.

He could tell her right then, and Bonnie would be pissed and Addison would be pissed and Cassie would be pissed, but at least she would know. In that moment, the unconscious Archer didn't matter, Bonnie's burning gaze into the side of his head didn't matter, Cassie's birthday party didn't matter— the opportunity was right there, and he was going to take it.

He was finally going to tell the truth.

"Nothing's going on, Cassie," Derek replied, "He was being creepy to you, so I stopped him. Let it go."

Or, maybe not.

(And the second lie is the nail in the coffin.)

SEATTLE, ONE WEEK AGO

"We need to talk."

Cassie never thought that four simple words could hold such an unbearable weight in her chest.

The tightening in her abdomen was almost painful, nerves and confusion swirling together like a tornado in the pit of her stomach.

It was there when Jackson took her out into the hallway and told her what he'd been meaning to say for weeks, and it was there when she listened, too.

Despite the pressing urge to sprint in the opposite direction, the tornado remained stagnant, idly threatening to overcome her entire body.

It wasn't until he finally said it, that she arrived at the eye of the storm; in an instant, the tornado vanished, her entire body going numb in a way it never had before.

"Robert Avery is your birth father," was what Jackson had said, voice shaking like the ground beneath her feet. "And he's mine, too."

Cassie couldn't remember much of what happened next.

She knew that she'd been able to make her exit when a sea of residents bombarded Jackson with requests to meet his grandfather — their grandfather — before the man was discharged the next morning, the large crowd making it easy for Cassie to slip away undetected. Briefly, she caught Jackson's eye before she turned the corner, seeing a million unspoken words in his gaze, but honestly, she didn't really give a shit.

Robert Avery is your birth father.

Cassie kept walking, unsure of where she was going but just knowing that she needed to leave.

The tornado returned, tearing away at her gut and making it's way up through her throat and into her brain. It ripped away at the walls of her sanity, everything in her head becoming a jumbled mess while she made a b-line towards the elevator.

Vision blurring, heart rate speeding, her fingers and toes tingling as if they weren't receiving enough blood-flow—

Robert Avery is your birth father.

At this point, the walk to the elevator was simply muscle memory, because Cassie really wasn't looking where she was going (she neglected to realize that she walked right past Mark, who didn't even bother to spare her a glance). She was entirely out of breath, feeling as though she was running despite her feet moving at an average walking pace, if not a bit slower than usual. The tornado had completely taken over, leaving her as nothing more than carnage in it's wake, her insides turning over and caving in on themselves as she pressed the button to go down to the lobby.

(In hindsight, stepping into an enclosed space while on the verge of a panic attack wasn't the brightest idea, but it's not exactly as if she was thinking clearly.)

"Cassie? Oh, thank god, I've been looking for you, like, all day, well, since this morning—"

Vaguely, she could hear Lexie's voice coming from her left, but it didn't entirely process in her mind at the time. Eventually, her gaze drifted in that direction, though, she could only make out bits and pieces of what the other girl was saying.

"—for telling Mark, I know I shouldn't have—"

Cassie ran a hand through her hair, the numbness leaving her all at once as the thoughts rolled in. Robert Avery is her father. Harper Avery, the Harper fucking Avery, is her grandfather — fuck, Jackson is her motherfucking half-sibling — and her mother knew, and her mother lied, and oh, god, did anyone else know? Did Denny, or Carol, or Derek? Did they know, too? Did they lie—?

"—going to tell you that I told him earlier, but then I got nervous and then... I just, I'm really sorry for not lying to him, I didn't mean for—"

Fuck, she couldn't breathe.

"—it's all very messy, and I don't want this to—"

Fuck, she couldn't— was it hot in there? She felt hot, like, the kind of hot that makes her clothes stick to her skin and a rash to develop on her arms and then everything gets blurry and she gets dizzy and she can't even think—

"—but I am really, really sorry—"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

"—woah, hey, are you okay—?"

No. No, she wasn't okay. There was not, in any way, shape, or form in the entire motherfucking universe, a scenario in which she could ever be okay right now.

Cassie couldn't even comprehend that she was gasping for breath until Lexie's hand came to delicately rest on her back; and like a violent flood pushing up against a dam, it was inevitable that only the slightest pressure could cause her to break.

Lexie instinctively moved to wrap her arms around her, though, her attempt of comfort was futile, as Cassie moved to the opposite side of the elevator before she had the chance.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

"I'm sorry," she choked out, unable to form coherent sentences through her heavy breathing. "I-I'm sorry—"

"Cassie, Cassie," Lexie emphasized, "Just talk to me, okay? What's going on, did— did something happen?"

Cassie laughed at that; not a normal laugh, or a giggle, or even a wheeze, but a laugh which came from the very back of her throat, a laugh mixed with anguish and denial and confusion and anger.

The absolutely fucking ridiculous question was enough to snap her out of her haze of panic, at least, enough so she could begin to slow her heart rate and prevent passing out.

Lexie just watched her, wildly concerned, as she'd been completely fine earlier that morning.

But as soon as the laughter came, it faded, leaving Cassie with nothing more than involuntary tear-stained cheeks and a dizziness she couldn't seem to shake. "Yeah," she said, the hoarseness of her voice making it sound like a whisper, "Yeah, something happened."

"Okay, um," Lexie replied, too inexperienced in the art of calming Cassie Harper to be of much help. "Well... what is it?"

Running her hands over her face, she just shook her head vehemently, not even fully believing the words that were about to come out of her mouth.

"Uh, Jackson Avery is... he's my brother."

Lexie took a moment to process. "But... you're white."

This time, Cassie let out a real laugh. Still, her breath was shallow, but it seemed like just speaking to Lexie had brought it back into her lungs. Tiredly nodding in assent and running a hand through her hair, she corrected, "Half-brother, Lexie."

Brother.

It wasn't an unfamiliar word to Cassie; quite the opposite, in fact, but saying it when reffering to Jackson left an odd sting on the tip of her tongue.

Cassie had only ever used it when reffering to Derek, and maybe even George, on a rare occasion, but this was the first time that it was being used for someone she was actually related to. Brother. Brother. Brother.

The more she tested it out while picturing Jackson's face, the more it made her want to projectile vomit all over the floor of the elevator.

(As Cassie felt the numbness fade, she also felt the anger and the rage make a slow yet steady appearance.)

Lexie had never been a very intuitive person, but watching the way Cassie's face revealed her array of emotions in quick succession, she found it ideal to not ask too many invasive questions.

She already knew the story, anyways; she remembered an article she'd read years prior about the '1982 Avery Cheating Scandal', and how Jackson's father had an affair with a younger woman, which ended up tearing apart his marriage and his family as a whole.

Besides, Cassie was putting trust in her right now, and after telling Mark about their hookup, Lexie desperately wanted to keep that trust.

"So," she started, dragging out the word in an attempt to ease the tension. "Who else knows?"

A very pressing question, Cassie thought silently.

"I don't know," she answered, her jaw clenching at the mere thought of anyone knowing, at least, anyone she knew personally. "My mom did, but she's dead... Denny might have known, but he's also very dead... which basically just leaves—"

The elevator doors opened with a ding, revealing Derek standing in front of them, fearful eyes impatiently awaiting their arrival. Jackson stood a few feet behind him, obviously distressed, eyes locked onto Cassie with a burning gaze. Lexie, from taking just a single glance between them, knew that this would not, under any circumstances, end well.

Cassie stepped out of the elevator with Lexie on her heels, stopping in front of Derek, not saying a word.

No fucking way.

Derek had only lied to her one time, this, she knew for a fact. When he first came to Seattle and told her that he and Addison had gotten a divorce simply so she wouldn't ruin his relationship with Meredith, that was the first time he lied. Cassie knew that, because that's what he told her. And before that, she'd never had a reason not to believe him; after that, she didn't have a reason to think he would do something like it again.

There is no fucking way.

But she also knew his face, more specifically, this face, the one right in front of her. It was the same one he wore that day, when he called her moralistic and told her that he hated it when she judged him. It was similar to the one he wore after his fight with Mark, when his aim was shit and he hit her instead, but it wasn't the same. No, this face was special; this face was reserved for lies.

"You knew."

It wasn't a question. Cassie didn't need to ask.

Derek looked at her, looked at her flushed cheeks, her puffy eyes, the way her chest heaved up and down as she stared up at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. The voice in his head was loud, chanting idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, over and over and over again to the point where he could hardly combine his thoughts to form a sentence.

"Cassie..."

"You fucking knew."

Lexie looked over at Jackson, who had taken several steps back from the two, fist curled against his mouth as liquid pooled in his eyes. Worriedly, she glanced around, appreciating the fact that at the very least, nobody else was watching this unfold. She sensed that Cassie wouldn't want that.

Cassie wasn't sure of the duration of time she was staring up at Derek before she spoke her next words, a burning feeling forming in her chest at the mere sight of him. All she was sure of, was that he fucking lied.

"Listen—"

"How long?"

Derek bit his tongue, deciding to play oblivious. "Hm?"

But Cassie, as much as she acted it, wasn't stupid.

"How long have you known about my father?"

Fuck. Derek winced ever so slightly, his own heart rate picking up speed at the question. All at once, he was back on that beach, watching Cassie play in the ocean without a care in the world. He remembered the way her face used to light up when she was a kid, the way she used to take things with grace, the way she supported her mother in the rough patches, the way she loved him like family, the way she trusted him like a brother.

"Cassie, you have to understand," he begged, his voice hardly above a mumble. "You have to understand, I thought... I really thought it was in your best interest... I thought it was the right thing—"

"How long, Derek?" Cassie's eyes narrowed into slits, trying to excract the truth out of him through her unrelenting stare. "How long have you known?"

"Since... since you were thirteen."

Swallowing harshly, her jaw clenched, her gaze fitting over Derek's face while searching for any sign at all that this was all some sick, elaborate, fucked up joke. But all she found was guilt, remorse, self-loathing, and pain, each of them stiched into his skin so deeply, she could hardly remember what he looked like beforehand.

SMACK!

It was almost impossible for so much to happen in such little time. Her palm connected with his cheek and tossed his head to the side, a visible handprint already burning into his skin. He hadn't been expecting it, that was clear; maybe if he had been expecting it, it wouldn't have hurt so much.

But then, what came next was even worse.

"Go fuck yourself."

SEATTLE, PRESENT DAY

Cassie used to love ferryboats.

That is, before she legally died for thirty-two minutes due to one of them crashing into the harbor, but still. She used to love them. She loved the people watching, and the way the wind would blow through the ends of her hair.

She loved how cold the air was no matter what time of year, and how she could wear her coziest sweaters in the middle of a July heatwave.

She loved the isolation of it all, how it was the one place where she could just be alone and think.

But most importantly, Cassie loved ferryboats, because Derek loved ferryboats.

When she thought about it, Cassie realized that almost everything she loved, Derek had loved at one point, too. She remembered how when she was younger, before she tried anything new, she'd get his opinion first. Which, more often than not, shaped how she felt about whatever it was, as well.

(Codependency, her therapist had explained to her, as if Cassie didn't already know what that meant.)

She used to love ferryboats, but now? Not so much.

Standing at the edge of the dock, Cassie focused her sights on a ferryboat as it left for it's round trip, full of people who didn't have severe trauma linked to such a thing.

It was still nice just to be out there, but a part of her wished she could go back to the way things were before; before the trauma, and the deaths, and the relationships, and the lying.

Back when Cassie could just be Cassie, not the bastard Avery child, or the person who was forced to tick the prone-to-outbursts-of-violence box before each therapy appointment.

Cassie didn't need to turn around to know that Derek was standing behind her. She may have hated him for what he did, but despite everything, he still smelled like home.

"Hey, uh, Cass?"

She didn't turn around. He didn't deserve the comfort.

A quiet "Hm?" came out of her mouth, though, he had to strain to hear it over the wind. Shuffling his feet in place, Derek stared into the back of her head, noticing that she'd dyed her hair a shade or two darker since the last time he'd seen her.

"Cass, I need to... I need to apologize."

She didn't want his apology.

If she were completely honest, Cassie would prefer to never hear a word from his mouth again. "Is this apology for me, or to make yourself feel better about the fucked up thing you did?"

(Derek sighed, but he knew this was all just a part of winning back her forgiveness; after all, it's not like he hadn't done it before.)

"Cassie, please just... just listen, for me." Not moving a muscle, she continued to watch the ferryboat get smaller and smaller, the reflection of the sun on the water making her squint. "Cass, just... just let me say one thing, okay?"

The whiny tone of his voice practically made her cringe. "No one's stopping you, Derek. Just spit it out."

Fuck, okay, so, she's really mad, Derek gulped, pulling out the wrinkled sticky note he'd written his little speech on beforehand, worried that he'd forget something he really wanted to say. Cassie didn't turn around, yet she heard the sound of the paper crinkling against his fingers, rolling her eyes at the fact that he fucking wrote this down.

"I just..." he glanced down at the first bullet point, "I wanted to tell how you sorry I am, for lying to you about this. About something this big, and... I-I know I had my reasons, but they were no excuse, and I'm sorry." Second bullet point. "I understand that you're angry, and you have every right to be but..." Third bullet point. "I'm really, truly, genuinely sorry, Cass, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

It was quiet for a long time after he stopped speaking, and for just a brief second, Derek could've sworn she planned to give him the silent treatment.

That is, until she started laughing.

(He probably would have preferred the silent treatment.)

"You're fucking kidding, right?"

Cassie still didn't look at him, not because she didn't want him to see her laugh, because fuck, she really did, but because she didn't think she was capable of seeing his face and not slapping him again. Her laughter was uncontrollable, at this point, though it wasn't loud; it was a silent shaking, mixed with the occasional unattractive snort, and it was genuine. Really, the whole situation was pretty fucking hilarious at the end of the day, wasn't it?

Eleven years. Eleven goddamn years he lied to her, and that was the half-assed apology she received, which she didn't even want in the first place. Eleven years of him lying about her family, about her history, about who she was. Eleven years of holding her while she cried and making her feel better, making her feel loved, all while being a lying, deceitful, piece of shit.

Yeah, no, Cassie didn't give a fuck what he had to say.

Derek watched as her fists clenched at her sides, before they moved in front of her to grab ahold of the railing between her and the water. "I'm not kidding, I—"

"Do you know where we are right now?"

Derek wasn't the biggest fan of having this conversation with her back, but he responded nonetheless. "We're at the docks."

Cassie shook her head, her bitter chuckles dimming into a tight half-smile, laced with a fury she didn't dare unleash.

"This is the place where you let me drop dead."

It was a low blow, but she didn't regret it. Not one fucking bit. Sure, she knew that her dying after the ferryboat crash was the result of just about a million factors and a testy relationship with god, but she also wasn't exactly wrong. Of course, Cassie was the one who insisted he take Meredith's corpse to the hospital, but he was the one who didn't even think to check if she was fucking okay.

Derek gulped, like, actually gulped. "Cassie."

"You remember that?" Cassie huffed, whatever smile she had left dissipating. "I do. I remember it every time I come out here. I also remember how I... I never even thought to be mad at you for that. Didn't even cross my mind. I fucking died because you left me, and I didn't even get angry. And now, I am mad at you, for eleven years worth of lies, and yet you can't even manage to write down a decent fucking apology."

Hands clenching around the sticky note, Derek shoved it back into his pocket, tears lining the brim of his eyelids.

"Please, Cass, just tell me what to do, here," he begged, at this point willing to get down on his hands and knees. "Tell me what I can do to fix this. Just... just help me find a way to fix this, so you can forgive me, okay? I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. Please, just, forgive me, Cass, please."

Slowly, Cassie turned to face him.

"I don't forgive you, Derek," was all she said, watching his heart break in front of her. "And I don't think I ever will."

(But please, don't hold her to it.)

author's note ━━━━
wow that was so kyoto by
phoebe bridgers of them!

also thank you to foxgIoves
for writing a paragraph for
me when my brain stopped
working (see if you guys can
guess which one lmao)