Act Two
Hi all! I've got my writing mojo back (for now... this thing is STILL a doozy to write!!) and we're into an "Act Two" of sorts. It's a continuation of "Standing Up", called "Up Standing". So basically, it starts over from where I'd left off at part eight, skipping onwards to where Zeke comes home from the hospital.
Hope you like! Thanks for all the lovin's the past week... (((KISSES)))
Title: "Up Standing (Act Two, Part One)"
Pairing: C/Z, Z/OFC
Rating: R for language
Synopsis: When Zeke comes home...
He was already complaining, but at least jovially so. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Zeke grumbled out as Casey lugged the wheelchair out of the back. Gilda sighed as she got his legs positioned out of the car, pulling his crutches out for him.
“Now DON’T STAND fully, you heard the doctor,” she said. Casey wheeled the chair over and smiled sheepishly at Zeke.
“Welcome home,” he said. Zeke rolled his eyes, getting helped to his feet by Gilda. Casey got the chair to him easily enough and let him sit in it. Casey then wheeled him up to the house; Zeke chuckled.
“Knew that big fucking board would come in handy someday,” he said, nodding to the large plank of wood Casey had nailed to the stairs, easing their entrance. With one big shove, Casey managed him up to the porch easily. Zeke turned his head to look at him, giving him a quirky smile. “You been workin’ out?”
“Yea, yea,” Casey laughed out, opening the front door. Gilda soon joined them, opening the door wide to get them all inside. Zeke looked around, sighing.
“Never thought I’d love this place so much,” he said. “I’d rather eat mac and cheese for the rest of my life than have anymore watery jell-o,”
Casey cringed at the thought as Gilda laughed. “Well good. We just got some this morning,” she said, bending down for a kiss. Casey ignored it and walked to the living room, turning on the TV. “Let me go make you some dinner, Zee,”
“’K,” Zeke said, wheeling himself by Casey. Casey turned to him as he flipped through channels.
“Whattaya wanna watch?” he asked. Zeke shrugged.
“I really don’t care,” he blandly replied. “Anything but the ‘Cooking Channel’; that’s all Todd watched,”
“Christ,” Casey said; he finally found a Western on AMC, and it made Zeke smile.
“Yea. Good one,”
“Which one is it?” Casey asked.
“’The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,’” Zeke replied. “Best spaghetti western there is,”
Casey sat back, frowning. “I’ve never gotten that term, ‘spaghetti western’. What the hell does it mean?” he asked; Zeke laughed.
“They were made in Italy, with a lot of Italian actors. Works well when you need Indians,” Zeke told him. Casey smiled.
“Wow, never knew that,”
“Now ya do,”
“Oh, GOD, a Western??” Gilda complained as she walked in. She rolled her eyes she groaned, sitting down. She put her hand on Zeke’s thigh and smiled at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of this shit?”
“Whenever Eastwood is involved, I’m there,” Zeke told her with a wry expression. She sighed loudly, sitting back.
“C’mon, put something else on,” she complained. Casey glanced over to them, his eyes darting between her and Zeke. Zeke glanced back and shrugged.
“Go ahead and change it,” he grumbled out. Casey turned back to the TV and began clicking; he’d just been starting to like it, too.
Casey was very glad Gilda worked late; tonight was one of those nights, though she whined and complained loudly about having to go. She seemed to stall as she got herself ready, walking in and saying random things every now and again. It was usually things like “So you know you need those meds at ten, right?” or “My Zee’s first night home and I have to WORK…” and what not. Casey was starting to wonder if she was going to go in at all; he’d been looking forward to FINALLY just have a nice night with Zeke. While he flipped through a Chinese food take-out flyer, Gilda, dressed in her outfit for work and coat (finally) walked in and kneeled next to Zeke. “You sure you’ll be all right without me, hon?” she asked while playing with a lock of his hair. Casey’s jaw clenched as Zeke chuckled.
“Uh, yea… I got Casey here. He’s gotten me through worse,” he replied. Gilda made a wry smile, looking to Casey.
“You’d better take good care of my baby,” she cooed. Oh good Lord, it was enough to make Casey’s throat gag up bile.
“He’ll be fine,” he said blankly, staring at the soup choices. She smiled a thin lipped grin and leaned over to Zeke.
“You call me, all right? If you need anything,”
Casey was doing his best to ignore how close Gilda was to Zeke; she’d just moved in for a kiss, leaving Casey to nearly plaster the menu to his face to avoid seeing it. He knew that this was something he was going to have to put up with; he just wished he’d been wrong, somehow. Finally she stood up, leaving Zeke flushed and looking embarrassed. “See you around one,” she said, blowing him a kiss. “See ya Case,”
“Bye,” they both said in unison. They were now alone, Gilda gone out the door and clomping down the front steps. Zeke groaned deep, making Casey look over at him in the corner of his eyes. “So uh… how about egg drop soup?” Casey stammered out.
“Christ, she’s so full of it,” Zeke muttered. Casey now turned fully to face him, blinking in confusion.
“Huh?”
“Gilda- she’s so fucking full of it,” he said. “She’s never this mushy romantic, for God’s sake. I get laid up and she decides to play nurse,”
Casey bit his lip and turned back around; his eyes were on the menu, but not reading it. “Can I… ask you- something?” he haltingly asked.
“Yea, sure,” Zeke grumbled, moving in his wheelchair a bit. Casey sighed deeply, flicking the menu in his fingers.
“Why are you seeing her? I mean… the way you and everyone talks it’s like- you… and everyone… don’t like her at all,” Casey managed to say.
“Yea, I know,” Zeke said, his voice gruff. “I don’t really know either. Might be the sex, I dunno,”
Casey fought hard to keep from shaking; he didn’t want to know about this, and decided to try to end the conversation. “So, soup? Or rice as a side dish?”
“It’s like… when we met, she was a total cunt to me,” Zeke went on, a contemplative look on his face. “I was at ‘Main Street Tavern’, just having a few beers with my friend from the shop. Gilda walked in with a bunch of her friends, and you could tell they’d been expecting a clubbier place. Dressed to the nines, all that- looking more for a bunch of young guys rather than the usual crowd of old farts at Main. They kinda latched onto me and Jay first thing,”
“Ah,” Casey breathed out. There was no getting back to the menu now; Zeke rarely ever spoke with anyone, but he always did with Casey. Better to just suck it up.
“They all but demanded we buy them drinks, and when we laughed at their advances, they got all pissy. ESPECIALLY Gilda- she’s the type that figures ANY guy should buy her the bar should she want them to. I saw right through her, man, but… we ended up here anyways,”
“Well…” Casey started; God, what the fuck to say to something like this?? “Maybe you should just dump her,”
Zeke laughed out loud as Casey immediately regretted saying this. How utterly brilliant… “We’ll see how it goes,” Zeke said. “We’ll see,”
Casey nodded slowly, looking at the menu again. It was hard to read as it trembled hard, his fingers clenching on the paper to try and still his nerves.
As much as Casey had wanted to stay up late into the night with Zeke, watching more Westerns and having a good time, Casey had forgotten that Chinese food made him horribly drowsy. He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until someone bumped his side roughly, making him wince in his sleep.
“C’mon, get up,”
“Gilda really, let the poor kid sleep,”
“And where will YOU sleep?”
“Here, for God’s sake. We’ve both crashed on the couch before,”
Casey’s eyes scrunched, trying to block out the noises before they roused him completely.
“Well, I’m not gonna be sleeping upstairs on your first night back, Zeke,” Gilda said in a curt voice. “I’d kinda like to spend it with YOU, if you don’t fucking mind,”
There was no use to keeping his eyes shut as tight as they were; Casey was waking fully now, feeling the dread of opening his eyes to the world once again. It couldn’t have been that long since he’d fallen asleep. A gentler nudge came to his shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Hey Case? Wake up, man- Gilda’s back,”
Casey let out a deep sigh, hoping it didn’t sound like regret. His eyes opened and focused on Zeke’s face, which rested just above his head.. “Hey…” Casey muttered.
“C’mon, out,” Gilda told him, pointing her thumb towards the hallway. Casey sat up, shaking the sleepy cobwebs from his eyes. His head hurt, as it always did after taking a sudden nap.
“Gimmee a sec… damn,” Casey mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. Gilda groaned and walked over; grabbing his arm, she pulled Casey roughly to his feet. Losing all equilibrium, Casey lurched forward and fell, his knees hitting the floor hard. “OW… fuck!!” he cried out. Gilda flopped onto the mattress and sighed.
“There, you’re up,”
“Gilda! For God’s sake… Case, you all right?”
“He’s fine Zeke, God!!” she said, exasperated. “He’s just being dramatic again,”
“Fuckin’ hell…”
“Yea I’m fucking fine,” Casey growled out, getting to his feet. Without turning to say goodnight to anyone, he walked out of the room quickly, heading for the basement door. Anger swelled from his insides to his throat; he had to shut that door and get downstairs before he blew up, feeling his rage in his face. He knew he must have been red already, both from the new ache in his legs to the even worse pain in his head. His brain throbbed, not being properly woken up from dreams. Worst part was, there was no way in hell he felt tired enough to go back to sleep.
He got on his bed and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. The muffled voices of the two upstairs bounced off the floorboards and walls, getting louder and louder as they went on. He caught a few words, mostly from Zeke; “my house” and “fucking deal with it” were among the phrases Casey caught, making him groan deep inside. Great, they were fighting now, and more than likely it was about him. While Casey felt Gilda didn’t have to practically throw him on the floor, the last thing he wanted was for her to have MORE reason to snarl at him. He went to try and block their fighting out, lying on his stomach and burying his face in the pillow; suddenly however, Gilda’s voice rang out as clear as a bell. “FINE then, get your boyfriend back up here and fuck him instead!!”
Casey’s eyes went wide as saucers; the yelling stopped, now replaced with someone- Gilda, of course- stomping up the stairs… the slam of a door then… nothing.
Sleep would not come tonight, at all. It had to be well past four a.m. now; the sky was black from where Casey could see it, though white was certainly coming down in torrents. He could hear the snow piling up, flakes making swooshing noises at the small window above him. He swallowed, staring at the glassy blackness and thinking… his head still ached, and the thoughts he was having weren’t helping at all.
What… in all hell had happened up there? Casey now wished he would have crept up the stairs and listened in, as loathsome an act as it was. He wasn’t one for spying, but his chest was tight with nerves; he wasn’t going to want to leave this basement without making sure he was either well armed or word got to him that Gilda had left for some other country. She HAD to be entirely pissed with whatever was said and done up there. Problem was, Casey was both incredibly thirsty AND in need of the bathroom.
Hoping the both of them were sleeping, he got off the bed and went to the stairs, taking slow, quiet steps up to the door. Casey turned the doorknob quietly and opened it, thankful that the door hadn’t creaked and wobbled noisily. He walked across the hallway in three, very quiet strides, making it to the bathroom without incident. He breathed easier once inside, though the act of taking a piss made him wince; the noise of water splashing in the toilet was enough to wake the dead at this point. Once through he stood silent a moment, listening; no, no noises outside.
He got his pajama pants up and walked swiftly out to the kitchen, ready to just grab a glass of water and head back downstairs. He turned on the tap with small jerks, pouring out half a glass then stopping it. Taking a heavy sigh he headed back to the hall, just as he realized a light had turned on in the living room.
“Case?”
Casey stopped dead in his tracks. The glass felt like it was going to break with the tense hold his fingers had on it. “Yea?”
“C’mere a sec,”
Casey walked to the archway, feeling like he was a pallbearer; both the dread and weight piling on his shoulders made for a great funeral feel right now. He now stood, facing Zeke who was sitting on the bed looking towards him. Zeke breathed out a long trail of smoke as he began to speak. “You all right?”
Casey nodded. “Yea, yea I’m fine,”
“You sure?” Zeke asked. Casey blinked a few times and looked away.
“Yea… you?”
Zeke laughed bitterly, his eyebrows rising a bit. “Oh yea, I’m great,” he replied. He looked back and sighed heavily. “Sorry Gilda was such a cunt to you. She shouldn’t be like that, not in my fucking house,”
“Oh. Um, okay- it’s all right,” Casey stammered. “Where… is she, anyways?”
“Upstairs. She didn’t like being talked to like she was five, even if she’d acted like she is,” Zeke said. “She wants to be a total bitch, let her. She’ll learn when to shut up someday,”
“Okay,” Casey whispered, nodding again. It grew quiet a moment; Casey’s lips practically burning to speak. Before he could rethink it, he suddenly blurted, “Does she think we’re fucking, Zeke?”
Zeke stared at Casey a moment, mouth open, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “She probably does,” he replied blankly. “Shows you how fucking stupid she is,”
That had nearly blown Casey off his feet; he’d known, fuck, known what a silly pipedream his fantasies were. He’d known how unfeasible his wants and dreams had been all this time, thinking of Zeke the way he did. But… Gilda had to be stupid… not a little confused, or even just silly to assume something like that. Stupid.
“Yea,” Casey muttered. “I’m gonna go to bed. I’m really tired,”
“’K- g’night,” Zeke uttered, putting his cigarette out. Casey turned and went to the basement door, practically flying down the stairs and doing his best not to throw the water glass into the stone wall. That might raise some suspicions.
The next morning, Casey couldn’t see through the window above him. He peered curiously at it through sleep filled eyes, confused. All he could see was white… oh shit…
He turned onto his side and grabbed the television remote. Sitting up, Casey turned on the TV and flipped it to a local news station. Sure enough, Wendy McCrary, Channel 42’s weather woman, was standing outside of city hall and talking into the camera. “I talked with the mayor just a little while ago; he said he’s sending out twenty extra trucks to plow the streets, but as you can see, this is going to take a while to clear out…”
Casey watched with dread as Wendy and the news anchor, Chris Litton, talked back and forth on the heavy snowstorm, still going strong. It HAD to be pretty bad; it was supposed to keep going until the next night, and they were already talking of schools possibly being cancelled that next Monday. Casey rolled his eyes and lay back down, groaning. Great, just what he wanted; to be trapped in this house with Zeke and his maniac of a girlfriend. He looked up the stairs at the door, not hearing anyone walking around. It was still a bit early; this was the 7:30 edition of the news. That meant Casey had had less than three hours of sleep. It was enough to make him retch.
Instead, he figured he could use something to eat. Anything to keep his head on straight, and a bowl of cereal sounded fantastic right now. He got up and tromped up the stairs; he now was able to hear the same broadcast playing on the TV in the living room. Casey opened the door and stepped out, walked into the living room and found Zeke sitting up in bed with his own bowl of breakfast in his lap. Zeke looked over and raised his eyebrows. “Hey, you’re up,” he said; he then nodded to the TV and sighed. “Looks like we’re fucked for the weekend,”
“Yea, I saw,” Casey said, walking in and sitting next to Zeke. “Fucking crazy,”
“Uh huh. Thank God you went out for groceries yesterday morn. We’d starve half to death if you didn’t,”
Casey nodded, watching Wendy measuring a snow bank. Casey’s eyes bugged out. “Almost two fucking feet??” he cried. “What the holy- if this keeps going, we won’t thaw out ‘til August!”
Zeke laughed, shaking his head. “Looks like it’s Scrabble and video games for the afternoon,” he said. Casey smiled a little at these prospects.
“You just got the new ‘Hell on Wheels’ game, right?”
“Fuck yea,”
Before they could revel in ‘snowed in’ planning, a door slammed upstairs. They both stopped and looked towards the stairs; Zeke’s munching of cereal slowed. Casey heard the chewing go halted a moment as they both listened for more foreboding signs from Gilda. Zeke began eating normally as he turned away, shrugging. “I don’t have many other games, but we’ll see how good you do against me with ‘Wheels’,”
“Hah… okay,” Casey said, trying to return to the idea of gaming for the day. “I’m gonna get some cereal,”
“’K,”
Casey stood up and walked into the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards. Before he had the chance to get the milk out of the fridge, the phone rang. “Can you get that Case??” Zeke called.
“Sure,” Casey yelled back. He grabbed the phone; “Hello?”
“Hello, is there a Casey there?”
Casey frowned slightly. He didn’t recognize this voice…? “Um yea, that’s me,”
“This is Baystate Movers- we’re calling to say we’re going to be a little late in your delivery. The roads need to be plowed out for us to get there; we’re stuck in traffic right now on the highway,”
Oh dear God! Casey had forgotten all about this. “OH! Okay, yea…. Uh, don’t worry about it. It’s pretty bad out, they’re saying,”
“Yea, we almost turned around. We have another delivery we’re making to Michigan though, so we’re just rushing. We’ll be there soon,”
“Okay, thanks for calling,” Casey said; he hung up the phone and blinked. Well, this certainly made things official, even if it was going to be a heavy task for today. He finished making his cereal and rushed back to the living room. “Hey guess what??”
“What, what?” Zeke said, taken aback by Casey’s sudden enthusiasm.
“That was the movers from Boston- believe it or not, they’re going to make it for today,”
“You’re shittin’,” Zeke muttered, one eyebrow raised in interest. “Damn. Better get a huge tip ready for ‘em,”
“I know… God, this is pretty cool,” Casey chirped. Zeke laughed.
“Yea it is,” he said.
“I mean, I cannot WAIT to use my computer again. I have so much music downloaded on the thing, a whole messload of pictures… I can’t WAIT…”
“Your shit’s coming today???”
Both Casey and Zeke turned, finding Gilda standing on the stairs. She was wearing a large blue bathrobe, along with a scornful expression. “Um… yea. The movers just called-“
“In this fucking weather?? They’re going to be tracking snow and mud through this place!” she complained. Obviously, she hadn’t gotten over her anger from the night before; that was clear as crystal.
“I’ll clean it up, Christ,” Casey muttered, turning to his cereal to start eating. Gilda simply grumbled to herself, muttering curses under her breath as she stomped into the kitchen. Before Casey could think she’d just let it go, she suddenly called to them.
“So, you ate the last of the cereal, I see,”
“There’s more in the goddamned pantry.” Zeke bellowed back.
“How’d you get the shit down yourself, gimpy??” she yelled. Zeke rolled his eyes.
“I have my ways,”
“Sure ya do, gimp,”
“Stop calling him that,” Casey called out, annoyed. It was silent a moment; Casey felt Zeke’s hand on his arm. He turned to see him shaking his head slowly and frowning.
“Don’t fucking bother,” Zeke hissed.
Gilda now returned, munching down a bowl of cereal. She sat on the other side of Zeke. “Defending Zeke, as always?” she said through a mouthful. Casey cringed.
“Don’t talk while you chew. Makes you sound uglier than you look,” Casey spat out. Zeke’s eyes widened, head whipping to stare at Casey as Gilda stopped her eating to stare at him as well.
“Oh! I’m sorry freakboy! Some of us can’t be as ladylike as you are,”
“Okay, guys…” Zeke started. Casey was now looking at her with contempt.
“Fuckin’ Will Shatner is more ladylike than you, don’t try to pay me any compliments,” Casey shot back.
“GUYS!” Zeke bellowed. “Shut the fuck up!”
They all returned to their breakfasts, obviously fuming. After awhile of absolute quiet, Gilda shot up from her seat and began walking out. “I’m going out,” she declared. Zeke rolled his eyes again, groaning.
“Where? It’s fucking snowing like all hell out there,” Zeke said.
“Anywhere but here,” she said, going upstairs. More doors slammed as Casey sighed, closing his eyes.
“I’m sorry…” he started, but stopped; looking over at Zeke, Casey saw him chuckling into his palm. “What…?”
“Shatner??” he hissed, still laughing. Casey’s lips tugged upwards.