Time for another Casey & Zeke Story today. Warning: no pairing - no slash - a lot of angst - poor boys :(
Stop laughing! Of course, I can! Or maybe ... well just read and see ...
Title: About loneliness and friendship
Fandom: Casey / Zeke
Warning: mention of death
Disclaimer: of course, not mine
Casey looked thoughtfully over to the empty seat in the classroom. Zeke wasn't at school for days now. This was unusual. Certainly, he used to skip lessons now and then, but that he was missing for days and nobody seemed to know anything about it, made him worried.
To be honest, he had nothing in common with Zeke. Zeke was two years older than him - but he had stayed down twice and now he attended the same class as Casey. Zeke was intelligent enough to go well in school .... when he liked to do!
But he refused to do so. He was a rebel - a lonely rebel - even if he stood in the center of the interest. He was seen as the dealer for everything funny and forbidden: Drugs, booze, fake identity cards and driving licenses, porn ... Zeke managed to provide everything what was wished. The other guys at school admired him, the girls crushed for him, even the teachers overlooked his escapades all too willingly.
Casey was different. He was a good student, one of the best of his class. Beside school he only lived for his hobby: the photography. He took photos of almost everything: the sky, the stars, the sunrise in summer and the blizzard in winter. He didn't took photos of people. People only hurt him.
He had to deal with them daily at school. Gabe and the other jocks had chosen him as their favorite subject - they tormented and abased him as often as possible. And nobody wanted to see it! All these jocks were joining the football team - they were the figurehead of Herrington High. Casey was a nobody! And no one seemed to notice him.
Nobody but Zeke! Sometimes, when Gabe and his buddies bullied him, he appeared suddenly on the scene. He needed to say no word. Just one of his sharp, nearly killing glances - and they decided to let him go for this time. Casey couldn't understand why Zeke was doing this. He wanted to say "Thank you" to him, but Zeke didn't give him a chance. He always shrugged, turned away and then he was gone without saying a single word ...
He didn't know exactly how he had come here. He had biked around and suddenly he found himself in front of Zeke's house. His car parked in the gateway. He had to be at home.
Casey stared across to the house, hoping to see or to hear something. But everything remained quiet. Alarmingly quiet. He had to do something! He had to make sure that Zeke was okay.
Maybe ... he hesitated. Then he opened the mailbox. He didn't want to be curious, but maybe .... When he saw the mail inside, he groaned. It was all too evident: Zeke hadn't emptied his mailbox for days!
Something was wrong here! He leaned his bike against the garden fence and walked across to the porch. Should he really dare it? Zeke could become quite furious if he felt cornered.Then one better left him alone. But, nevertheless, maybe he needed help?
Finally he knocked at the door. Once. twice. Not till then he heard steps approaching and the door was opened. He shrank back.
Zeke stared at him flabbergasted. But not this frightened Casey so much. He looked a mess! He was pale. His eyes were red and puffy, his hair unkempt. His T-shirt was crumpled, as if he had slept in it.
His voice sounded anyhow faded - either he had just roused him from sleep ...or he was drunk or high or maybe both of it ...
" I ... I ... just wanted ... "
It was a strange situation. Zeke gazed at him sharply and waited for his answer - and he didn't really know what he should say. Everything was so unreal.
"Oh, fuck," Zeke finally murmured and started to shut the door.
"Zeke! Are you doing well?"
The question was ridiculous, he knew it. But it stopped Zeke. He narrowed his eyes.
"What do you want, Connor?"
"I ... I have been worried," he stammered.
"You weren't at school for days now and ..."
Absolute unexpectedly Zeke opened the door wider.
Casey hesitated. What should he do? He had only come here to see that Zeke was okay; that all his fears were stupid and needless. But they weren't! Zeke needed help!
"C'mon Connor, it's getting cold! Either you come in now - or you back off!"
And Casey tried to overcame his fears.
He followed Zeke into the house. It was not as clean as he was used it from home, but it was okay for a young guy who lived alone. This first impression changed when they entered the living room. This room was a real mess! Empty chip-bags and pizza-boxes, beer bottles, a half-filled bottle Jim Beam. Overfull ashtrays. A few cups with coffee, cold and stale. On the couch two crumpled cushions and a blanket.The television ran without tone - a cheesy porno.
Casey felt turning red. He averted his eyes and sighed helplessly. Zeke dropped onto the couch and reached for a half-filled bottle of beer. He looked at Casey and grinned biting.
"What? It's nice here, isn't it? You don't like it?"
"What's wrong, Zeke?"
"It's all good over here! I'm fine! Wanna beer?"
Casey stared at him and shook the head.
"You're not okay, are you?" he whispered.
"Wanna tell me?"
"Oh fuck! Nope!"
Zeke took one more gulp of his beer and closed his eyes. Casey bit his lips. He didn't know how to get through to him. If he didn't want to speak with him, why the hell had he invited him to come in?
He threw a glance at the couch table which was covered with photos. Curiously he moved closer. The pictures were nothing special - only family photos. A man, a woman and a boy. Over and over again. Apparently taken over several years. Baby photos, Christmas, birthdays, the boy flying a kite, building a snowman, swimming. Always smiling, laughing, in the arms of his parents. A happy family. Casey reached for one of the photos.
Summer, sun, vacation. The boy might be ten years old, more or less. Together with the man he was playing on the beach.They had built a big sand castle. With mussels they had written the words "Our castle" into the sandy wall. The man laughed, the boy waved into the camera ...
"Fucking memories! I should shred them all!"
Casey winced. When he looked up, he saw directly into Zeke's eyes ... These eyes - great, brown, and an intense glint in it ... his eyes turned back to the pic he held in his hand.
"These little boy ... It's you!"
"And this ... is your dad?"
A thought crossed Casey's mind. The people on the pictures were happy, they loved each other. It was all too obvious. But today Zeke sat beside him, alone and desperate. Once again he glanced at the pictures. There were no pics of an elder Zeke. What had happened? Why had his parents left him alone? Why was his family shattered?
Zeke pointed to the picture Casey still held into his hand.
"Our last vacation. At that time I've still believed in an ideal world. Half a year later my Dad was dead! A fucking car accident. She could never deal with it .... "
"Fuck! Oh Zeke, I'm so sorry!"
Zeke narrowed his eyes.
"Why? You haven't even known him! And it's already years ago! It's all over and out. I don't care about it any more!"
"You don't? Well, that's not how it looks for me!" murmured Casey.
Zeke jumped up and blinked furiously. Casey shrank back.
"What the hell do you want, Connor? Shut this fuck up! You have no clue! Absolutely no clue!"
" I ... I'm sorry! You ... you don't have to tell me if you don't want! But ... "
Casey hesitated for a moment, but finally he decided to dare it.
" ... sometimes it can help to talk about all shit!"
Zeke dropped back onto the couch.
"Talking? Casey, my Mom is dead! She committed suicide one week ago! And it's my - fucking - fault!!"
Go to Part two