A/N: So, it's been months, almost five, since this story has been updated. I'd like to say that life has been unbearably busy and that I've done some amazing things in that time, but I haven't. I am really sorry, because I have had this chapter mostly finished for months, but I haven't been motivated much. I have ideas and half written stories and stuff, but no inspiration or desire to write. I should just retire.
So, SO sorry about the long wait, if anyone is even going to bother with this story anymore. And I'm not promising any time frame for the next chapter, because it's not started yet. But if there is someone who will wait, this story will eventually get to its end. Eventually.
Enjoy and review
Disclaimer: I own nothing
It was a bit earlier than usual that Derek stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway to the apartment he was staying in. He wasn't sure if he should be happy about coming home around three instead of four in the morning, when he was used to climbing into bed around midnight with school and his summer coaching job, but right now an extra hour of sleep was looking really good to him. However, as he turned the corner that led to the door of the apartment, he stopped in his tracks at the site before his eyes.
Nervously, he shifted the weight of the guitar case in his hand while getting the keys out of his pocket. Walking calmly, something that he currently wasn't experiencing, he arrived at his destination and held his breath for a moment. His guest noticed him from the time he turned the corner, probably hearing his footsteps over the noise outside on the street as soon as he stepped off the elevator, and slowly stood from their previous sitting position up against the door.
His throat, inexplicably dry, worked through all the questions running through his head, although no sound came out of his mouth. Most likely out of pity for his inability to speak, a piece of paper was held in front of him.
"Damn," he said softly, placing the key into the lock and turning. Of course he couldn't get anything right on his own. And of all things to forget, the confirmation to his flight, which he most likely left on his printer, had to have been one of the worse things.
"Edwin's going to kill you," he heard behind him.
And suddenly, he felt weighed down by the only credit card in his wallet. It wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't just buy all of his school books for the next semester, as well as make a payment on the car that was now sitting idly on the street hundreds of miles away.
Derek wasn't so much afraid of Edwin, he was just upset with himself for possibly disappointing him and screwing up everything he had done for Derek.
It had been hard for Derek to realize that his younger brother had grown out of the childishness that Derek seemed stuck in. Edwin always thought about situations before jumping into them, always weighed the pros and cons before choosing the best option, always been more leveled headed than Derek. And well, Derek never really thought about the consequences beforehand, until his kid brother had to help him dig himself out of the hole he dug himself into.
Credit card companies had been sending things to the MacDonald/Venturi residence for years before Derek was of age to actually fill them out and send them back. But as soon as he could, he sent for as many cards as he was able to. He knew how credit worked and he understood that it wasn't free money, but for once in his life he was able to buy anything he wanted without having to ask his father for a loan or advance on his allowance. And when that first shiny card came in the mail, with his name stamped into it, what little sense he possessed went out the window.
Everything and anything was charged. New guitar strings and shoulder straps, vintage t-shirts, presents for family members, cup holders for his chair in the living room, a new bedspread because he was too lazy to wash his old one, and anything else that caught his fancy. It had become an addiction. He'd see something and he'd have to have it, simple as that.
A couple of months later Derek didn't want to admit that he was in trouble. His monthly payments were far exceeding his income and he really didn't want to go to his father for help. A lecture would have been involved and Derek really didn't want to walk away feeling smaller than he already felt.
Edwin must have noticed the expression Derek would get every time the mail arrived. So, it was a complete shock when Edwin walked into Derek's room as he contemplated burning all of the credit card bills on his desk. Derek would have laughed at how silly Edwin looked, with his plastic green visor that brokers wore in movies from the 80s and early 90s, along with a calculator that actually printed out everything that was keyed into it.
Nothing was said as Edwin pulled a folding chair up to Derek's desk, taking the bills from Derek and calculating the full amount Derek owed. It was a long process, watching his younger brother look through every piece of paper and highlighting the last payments made. Derek almost missed the small notepad that Edwin brought with him if he didn't hear the rustling the pages made when Edwin had to check back at something he wrote.
About an hour later Edwin leaned back in the chair and took the visor off his head, running a hand through his hair before replacing the cap. "This isn't good," Edwin said and Derek's face fell. "But, it's doable." Derek decided not to make a comment on Edwin's choice of words.
Derek wasn't sure what to think when Edwin came to him the next day and told him that he had to open another credit card. It seemed idiotic and for a moment Derek thought that Edwin wanted him to fail at life, more so than he already was, if only to prove that Edwin had a better head on his shoulders. Derek barely heard the explanation until Edwin mentioned something about transferring balances and canceling old cards. Derek had to stop him and back track until he finally understood Edwin's plan.
It had taken close to two and a half years before Derek paid off most of his debt. Edwin had set up weekly meetings where they could discuss Derek's finances and so he could teach his older brother his own frugal ways. Derek initially hated it, feeling like a shoddy older brother, needing to rely on someone a lot younger than him to help him out of a bad situation. If Marti had come in one day and began to offer advice, Derek would have contemplated jumping out his window.
Although it took so long for him to pay his bills off, it didn't take very long for Edwin to rub off on him. Their weekly meetings went from Edwin giving advice to the brothers just hanging out. And Derek was extremely touched when Edwin came into his room on a night that a meeting wasn't scheduled, looking sheepish while he asked Derek for advice on some girl in his class. Despite how small Derek had felt for needing Edwin's help, it meant more to him than anything that Edwin still looked up to him as an older brother.
But now, seeing the confirmation for the plane ticket, Derek saw Edwin's frowning face in his mind.
"He doesn't know yet," Derek heard, even though his mind was still miles away, in another time and place. "He's worried," brought him back to the present, where he now saw blue eyes instead of brown, long brown hair instead of a messy dark mop. "We all are."
Derek just nodded, knowing it was true and feeling worse for making everyone feel that way. Wondering if Marti walked into an empty bedroom the night before, if Lizzie forfeited the final games of the season, if Edwin hacked his computer and checked his account activity, even though they both knew his password would only be one thing.
"You're an idiot," Casey told him, leaning against the front door and staring at him in a way he's grown accustomed to, but still made him tingle slightly, never finding the right words to describe it.
"I know."