Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Heh heh…who's mad at me? Show of hands? Anyone?

Yeah, OK. Stop. Don't throw…DON'T THROW THOSE ROCKS!

I KNOW I should be writing DTS…but the muse…he is gone.

And yes. It's a he.

Enjoy:

Sit alone in your apartment, quite pathetically in the dark.

Take another sip of something warm and not very tasty, and wonder how you've managed to stay so calm when a) you've reached a very depressing part of life and b) you're very, very drunk.

Wince as you take another drink, and figure that you're done with blondes. Lean back and think that while you've only been with one blonde…they must all be the same. Figure that more fun must equal more trouble.

Go and start to pour yourself another glass, but spill it clumsily all over the table when the door flies open and she walks in.

Slur a greeting and get up to give her a clumsy hug. Look and feel hurt when she pushes you away.

She'll try to get you to lie down on the couch, but let the alcohol intoxicate your mind and mouth, let them embarrass you by blurting out everything you notice.

Feel your eyes narrow as you realize, and point out to her, that she is a blonde. While you've always thought of her as more of a redhead, the truth lies and the blonde undoubtedly shines through.

Allow yourself to keep talking, and finally ask why she's here. Listen as she tells you that your brother called and told her what happen. You'll feel long awaited tears fill your eyes as you hear her tell you that she felt so awful for you that she caught the next flight to Bayport. She'll speak slowly, as to not confuse your alcohol-influenced mind and you'll feel another surge of love. Wrap your arms around her tightly and kiss the top of her maybe-blonde-maybe-red head and tell her what a great friend she is.

She'll peel you off carefully, smile and push you down the hall into the bathroom. Nod your head when she tells you to take a shower, as you reek.

Step under the stream of hot water and let yourself wish that she had joined you.

Maybe you're drunker than you thought.

Wake up the next day, thoroughly hung-over and thoroughly mad at yourself for getting drunk.

Stumble into the living room, feeling very dizzy indeed.

Try not to yelp with surprise when you see your friend sleeping peacefully on the couch.

Dig through foggy memories of the night before, and remember her come over. Remember your tears. Remember wanting her to join you in the shower. Have the decency to blush.

Start to tip-toe quietly back to your room, but she'll hear you anyways and wake up. Feel a rush of warmth run over you when she smiles at you. Wonder if you've always felt it.

Thank her for being such a good friend. Offer to make her breakfast. Smile when she accepts.

Sit with her at the kitchen table. Notice that she cleaned the mess you make. Feel your cheeks flush. Pretend it's nothing when she asks you if you're alright.

Talk with her. Laugh with her. Let yourself wonder how things got so good between you two.

Feel your head pound when she brings up last night. Tell her that you aren't ready to talk about it. Know it to be true.

Hold her hand when she takes a hold of yours, and feel a pang in your chest when she tells you it'll be OK. Know it to be true.

When an awkward silence follows, don't take back your hand. Hold hers tighter. Make her nervous. Know that you've succeeded when she clears her throat and gets up to do the dishes, leaving you with firm instructions to take Advil and go back to bed.

Listen to her and stand up, but before going to get the Advil, turn to watch her walk away.

The next day, wake up and think for a while. Have you always loved her? Decide that the answer is yes and realize that you've always thought that the idea of loving her was so ridiculous that you never even had to wonder about it.

Wonder if you've ever had time with her and just you and her. Wonder whether if you've ever had more than a few moments with her and without your brother.

Wonder if she feels the same attraction to her that you do to her. Wonder if people can sense it. Wonder if your brother can tell.

Start to worry. Wonder if this is a rebound thing. Think about it for a few minutes. Decide that it isn't.

Get out of bed slowly now, and walk out to the living room again and smile at the sight of her sleeping silently in a ball on the couch. Feel bad for letting her sleep on the couch. Vow to offer her your bed that night.

Turn on the coffeepot and hope it doesn't wake her. Retreat silently back to the bathroom and glance at yourself in the mirror. Take a shower. Brush your teeth. Make yourself as presentable as it is possible at eight in the morning.

Put on your favourite t-shirt, the one she once told you looked good on you. Put on your cleanest jeans. Walk back out to the kitchen and pour yourself some coffee. Wait patiently for her to wake up.

When she does, hand her a cup of coffee, and smile goofily when she expresses her love for you, even though you know she's referring to you bringing her coffee.

Ask what she wants to do today and let your grin falter when she asks if they can go see your brother. Agree hesitantly.

Watch her stand up and ask to use your shower. Agree without a second thought.

Sit in the back of the taxi and feel your body stiffen as she slides in next to you. Feel the desperate desire for her to slide closer.

Take deep breaths and avoid her gaze by looking out the open window.

Keep quiet as the car races through the city. Bite your lip. Don't tell her. Do. Not. Tell. Her.

Feel your throat go dry as you feel her skin on yours, soft and warm. Wish that it was more than just elbows and knees. Wish for it until you feel you're about to die from the want. Steal a look at her and feel your face burn at your ridiculous fantasies.

After all, she's too good for you.

Knock on your brother's door, and watch her the whole time. When he opens the door, measure her reaction. How happy is she to see him? What can you see in her eyes? What about his?

Watch his eyes light up at the sight of her, and feel your stomach turn. Watch her smile grow as he hugs her, and feel your heart explode.

Let your sensible, denying side take over and tell you that they haven't seen each other in a while. It's not love, or lust, it's a happy reunion.

He'll usher you in, taking her arm and leading her into the living room. Trail behind her protectively. Feel jealous. Very jealous.

Wonder, as you sit on the couch, how you fell so far in just a few days.

Watch them talk. Watch them banter. Watch them laugh. Let the voice of reason tell you that you two do all that as well.

Stew quietly in your chair, and when they ask, blame your mood on your hangover. Feel hurt that no one even realizes that you were hung-over yesterday, not today.

Then, let your heart drop when your brother asks if she would rather stay in his spare bedroom than on your couch. Feel the horror as she considers it. But then, then feel the triumph when she tells him that she's just fine slumming it on your couch.

Tell yourself; tell yourself that that must mean something.

Then, see the hurt on your brother's face.

Tell yourself; tell yourself that he must love her too.

Watch her closely. Watch for signs. Watch her as the days pass. Talk with her. Laugh with her. Feel, to your horror, yourself fall even farther in love with her. Since the other day, you don't want to love her. Not if your brother loves her. This isn't right anymore.

Curse Cupid's ill-aimed arrow.

Again, watch her. Watch her move. Watch her talk. Watch her smile. Watch yourself fall irrevocably in love with her.

Tell her to stay as long as she wants, but what you really mean is, stay forever.

And when you talk to your brother, try to be a man. Try to be the detective you are. Can you hear it in his voice? Does he love her?

And be strong, because you know he does.

And still, you talk to her. You laugh with her. You watch her move.

You hope she's falling in love with you too.

Think to yourself: has it always been like this? Know that you've always loved her, certainly, but wonder if you've always loved her like this.

Know that you've always found her attractive, but wonder if you've always found her beautiful.

Know that you've always enjoyed your conversations, but wonder if you've always been kept up all night thinking about them.

And again, stay up all night, thinking of her. Think of her laugh. Think of her words.

And don't forget to tell yourself that she loves you.

Watch her. Watch her move towards you. Talk to her. Hear the stammer in her voice. See the blush on her cheeks. Watch her touch your arm. See her bite her lip.

Hear your voice go lower, and swallow hard. It's twilight, and her hair is golden in the fading light.

Listen to her talk. Focus on what she's saying. Ask yourself, and don't let yourself get hopeful, is she flirting? Is she insinuating? Listen to yourself. Move a hand to brush hair out of her eyes.

And…now. Tell her. Hope for the best. Forget your brother. Tell her. Watch her cheeks colour. Watch her lips part in surprise. Try to focus on the situation, not her face. Watch a hand flutter up to her chest. Stop wishing you were the hand. Focus.

Watch her mouth move and form words. You're both standing. Take a step forwards, and watch her take one back. Rinse and repeat until her back hits the wall. Take a deep breath. Don't break eye contact. You're speaking in low voices and then…and then…oh, and then…

Feel your lips meet hers and suddenly neither of you can breathe quite right. Push her gently back into the wall and feel the staccato beat of her heart beneath yours. Try not to die when she reaches up and puts her hands around her neck, pulling you even closer to her.

And now, now you're all hands and mouths in a flurry, touching skin and fumbling with buttons.

While everything else around you disappears, your one thought other than her, her, HER is, how did you both fall so quickly?

The only answer you have is that you were falling all along.

Why were you ever even crying about the other girl?

You have one hand in her hair, her lovely, sweet smelling hair and the other under her shirt and on the small of her back. She'll have one hand around your arm and one hand is in your back pocket and you're just dying and you want her so badly and she's so close and you can't stop and you're sliding to the floor and your shirt is on the ground and…

And when the door flies open, and your brother storms in, get off of her, despite the fact that you don't want to, and hold up your hands to tell him to calm down. It's all you can think of, because you're still flustered and she's still on the floor with her shirt half unbuttoned and her hair mussed.

Remember that your brother is in love with the girl you just got off of and stand still. Accept whatever is coming. You deserve it.

When he punches you, don't make a sound. Just bite your lip and stand up for more. Listen to him yell at you, listen to her cry and beg for you to stop. But don't do anything. Don't say a word. Just brace yourself and let yourself get hurt.

Finally, when he stops, fall to the floor at his feet. Look up at him and explain. Tell him that you love her. Out of the corner of your eye, watch her sit up straight. But don't pay attention to this. Apologize. Tell him that you're sorry.

Watch as he doesn't say another word. Watch him turn and leave the apartment.

Wonder why you didn't just tell him in the first place.

Feel your heart break when she talks to you. Watch the tears leak out of her eyes while she explains that she isn't worth it. Feel them leak out of your own when she tells you she can't stand you fighting.

Feel yourself die a little when she says that she's leaving.

At this, get to your feet. Grab her hand and pull her up too.

Tell her not to go. Tell her you love her. Tell her she's worth it. Watch the tears spill faster. Watch her lips move as she reciprocates the feeling. Watch her fall forwards into your arms.

Like you did a week ago, hug her tightly and kiss the top of her maybe-blonde-maybe-red head. Feel your heart swell.

Then, she'll tell you that she doesn't want to leave. Tell her you weren't going to let her anyways.

Swallow hard as she stands on her tip-toes and kisses you lightly. And suddenly, you're back at the wall. But you only kiss. You can't do anything more to her, and you know it.

And just like you hoped, she understands.

Go to your brother's house. Race through the city in a cab, and gaze out the open window.

Knock on his door. He'll answer. He'll look at you, and see your bruises. He'll hug you. Let him.

Go in. Talk to him. Listen to him. Listen to him apologize. Hear yourself tell him how much you love her. Hear him respond that he never loved her like that.

You're quiet. Don't say anything more. Don't ruin this.

He'll look up quite suddenly, and say that you can have her. He doesn't say this in a rude way. He says it with a big smile. Feel a rush of love towards your brother.

Hug him. When you pull away, tap the picture frame on his table. Tell him to go back to his girl. He tells you he was going to anyways.

Say that you have to leave. He'll smile and understand where you're going.

She'll be on the couch, reading and waiting for you to come back. Throw yourself at her. Tell her you love her a million time. Pick her up and kiss her. Feel yourself swoon when she wraps her legs around you.

When she pulls away, she'll tell you that she loves you too. She'll say, with no doubt in her voice, that she loves you. You, Frank Hardy.

Don't forget to say thank you.

A/N: OK. So. That was something very new for me to write. Kinda like it.

The title comes from the lyrics of "Bang the Doldrums" by Fall Out Boy, which was this songs anthem. While writing it, I'm sad to say, I listened to it 112 times. At the last second, I changed it from Bang the Doldrums to what it is now.

BTW, good song. And no, I'm not working for Fall Out Boy.

Reviews please? I mean, how can you NOT with the review button just STARING UP AT YOU like that?