Affliction Chapter 2: Bridge, a total drama series fanfic

Affliction

Title: Affliction

Author: Hikasne

Pairing: Duncan/Courtney

Words: 3, 058

Summary:

[Bridge between chapters, depicting Courtney's marriage to someone else.]

Happens before the first part of Affliction.

"Andrew?"

The front door opened with a drawn-out squeak and then slammed with excessive force. He was in one of his moods.

"Is dinner on the table?" he barked. His handsome faced was scarred and pockmarked, tough and hardened and chiseled. His face was twisted in hate. His blond hair was gelled into a careful disarray.

Courtney gulped. "Yes, Andrew."

(I don't want to get too close,

I don't want to get too close…)

The kitchen was still dark, and she didn't hear him advancing toward her until she felt a sharp slap on her cheek, so hard that it wrenched her head sideways and she felt her knees buckle beneath her.

"That's Mr. Lashbrooke to you," he said into her ear, leaning down. His breath was unpleasantly warm.

"Yes, Mr. Lashbrooke," she said in a whisper. Her cheek stung and her neck ached. She didn't remind him that she was his wife.

He sat down and drew out his chair, not bothering to help her off the floor. He helped himself to a piece of steak as she slowly, carefully got up and sat down. She took a timid bite of her own meat.

"How have you been without me?" he deadpanned. She didn't answer. She was thinking of where she had been the last night. Flashes of piercings clouded her vision.

"Courtney!" he yelled out. She snapped back to attention.

"Oh…sorry."

(See this isn't where my head is if you knew me,

I'm not like this…)

He leaped up suddenly as he forked his first bite into his mouth, fanning himself while swearing profusely. "Hot!" he shouted unnecessarily. She couldn't help smiling secretly, hiding it with her hair.

He spotted this smile and calmed down, dangerously. He took a step closer to her. The smile slipped off her face.

"You think this is…funny?" he said, his voice measured. "I'll make you think otherwise."

He proceeded to do so and then picked up his briefcase and jacket and slammed the door, leaving his 'wife' on the floor, with a bruise on her eye and a bruise on her heart.

(But I just found someone special,

And that's really something special…)

"Cheers."

Duncan extended the glass in his hand towards her, and Courtney Lashbrooke reached out and clinked it with his. "Cheers," she repeated. "But to who?"

"To us," he said simply.

"Easy enough." She was satisfied.

"Bottom's up," he said cheerfully, and they both proceeded to finish their drink.

"How's work?" Duncan asked innocently, putting his dish in the sink and running the tap over it.

"Oh, I'm hanging in there. It's kind of hard to sustain a living without…" She didn't finish. She could feel the air of the room grow tense.

"Andrew?" Duncan offered a while later, still looking bothered.

"Well, yeah," she answered back, placing her own glass and dish in the sink. She leaned over his shoulder. He could smell his own soap on her. It was making him crazy.

He could let Andrew go for now. He could let everything go for her. All he wanted, for that moment, was her.

(If you knew me,

Nice to meet you, anyway…)

"Ah," Courtney managed as Duncan finished their latest session. His breath was cold on her neck and she could feel his hands—somewhere they shouldn't be, no doubt. Their hair intermingled as he touched his forehead to hers and his free hand cupped her neck. His thumb gently brushed the left side of her chest and his other fingers braced under her arm. He leaned back on the pillow as she watched him. She could feel him, his presence. He adjusted himself on top of her so he didn't crush her.

"Good?" he asked. Like always. His sadistic smile was back in place.

"The best. Like always." She sighed. He flattened his hand against her bare stomach and leaned over. When he kissed her, it almost felt right. But then, it never did. Because it wasn't. But she still felt like she had to give it everything she had.

He tasted sharp, like wintermint, and his tongue ran along her teeth in the most satisfying sort of way. Andrew always tasted the same. Toothpaste. Ick. And he was handsome, but he was nothing on Duncan.

"Duncan," she started, wanting to give him a warning. To say slow down, wait up. But there was no time for that.

"Mmhmm?" His voice was muffled. Slowly he was running his tongue up her forearm and past her shoulder, to put his nose and mouth into the crook of her neck. His breath was cold. She burrowed herself under him, feeling safe and unmistakably protected.

(I believe you're very fine,

Still I haven't got the time…)

"It's always good with you," he said after a while.

"Thanks." She was still on edge.

He propped his head up on his elbow, brushing his thumb back and forth on the side of her hip. "Are you okay? You look kind of keyed."

"Fine."

He let out a breath and moved his thumb across the small of her back.

He didn't know how much of an effect he had on her. She arched her back toward him.

(Cause I just found someone special,

And that's really something special…)

Suddenly her phone rang. She knew who it was. "Oh, damn," she muttered under her breath.

Duncan sat up curiously, arms around her midriff. She could feel the lower part of him softening against her back. She dug her phone out of her bag and checked the caller ID.

They both read over her shoulder. Andrew Lashbrooke.

His arms fell away from her as he stared at the back of her neck silently, tensely.

Courtney opened the phone with shaking fingers. "Hello?"

Duncan watched silently as Courtney spoke into the phone in a false cheery voice.

"Oh, hi Andrew. How's business?" Muted murmurs from the other hand. Duncan resisted the urge to punch the phone from her hand. "I see. Oh, how nice!" Her voice was pitched abnormally high. "No…no, that's not where I work…no, it's Journeys & Sons."

(If you knew me,

Nice to meet you anyway…)

"You're coming home? Tonight?" she demanded loudly. "No, not at all! No, I'm thrilled to have you home! Okay, see you in an hour. Okay. L—l…love you too. I mean. Love you, too. Bye."

She snapped the phone shut and turned to him. He was looking out the window pointedly.

"I have to. I mean—I have to go," she said, rubbing anxiously at her eye. She got up with a false sort of bravado, pulling on her undergarments and then her pants. Duncan silently got up out of bed and put her shirt on for her, buttoning it a little too low for her liking. She didn't fix it.

She slung her black bag over her shoulder, stumbling over her high heels in the front door. She parted her hair right and smoothed it down properly. "Do I look okay?" she inquired, looking frantically for a mirror and settling for a pot, picking it up and examining her reflection critically. She couldn't believe she married him. She used to think he was so amazing. So perfect. Her beautiful future.

. She knew he would be himself once they were alone; who knew what would make him fly into one of his inexplicable rages.

(And the sky opened up,

And I saw your other side…)

He crossed his arms after pulling on his own pants. "You always look okay. Better than okay." He didn't say it like a compliment, more like an accusation.

She put down the pot to look at him, referring to the situation. "I know, I know! It's not my fault. Please."

He glared out the window. "Please what?"

She didn't know. "Just please." She walked toward him, and he took that many steps back, eyeing her wearily like she had a contagious disease. His hands were up.

"Save it." He had fallen back down onto the bed and was running one hand through his hair, groaning.

Well, at least he couldn't run. She sat down next to him, putting down her bag and checking the watch wrapped around his wrist. She could still feel his watch digging into her shoulder as he braced himself over her. She shook the image from her head.

"Point is, Duncan." She put one hand on her arm. He shook it off angrily, rubbing his face with his hands like he was tired. "I mean, I love you. I said that. And I do."

(Dreaming of,

my true love…)

"Yeah, I've heard it," he said into his hands, muffled.

"I just can't escape this." She sighed and flattened out beside him. "These weeks with you—it's been like something out of a fairy tale. Well. An x-rated fairy tale. But still. A fairy tale."

He managed a laugh at that, though he couldn't seem to help it. "Yeah, it's been like that for me, too."

"But I don't get a choice." She turned serious. "I have to return to him. You don't know how much I'd rather be here. I'd rather be here, believe me."

"I got that." His voice was short.

"But…fairy tales end. Nothing lasts forever. I thought you'd know that best," she continued, plowing ahead.

"You taught me that." His reply was hard enough to make her stand up.

He stood up too and just looked at her. Not angry. Not sad. Just looked.

"Well?" he commented dryly. "Any more fairy tales you want to spin for me? Any other morals of stories you want to share with me?"

She shook her head no and inclined her head upward. He kissed her back, but it seemed forced.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"It was my apology."

He shrugged.

"I guess happy ever after only was ever in fairy tales."

(I don't mean to be so strange,

But my life just took a change…)

He walked her to her front door, where Andrew was waiting. He looked smooth and clean cut, clean-shaved, in a green flannel jacket and khaki pants, snow boots.

"I'll take her from here," he said softly, taking her from Duncan with the air of false kindness.

"Thanks," he said tensely.

"You're her work buddy, right? Thanks, man." He extended his hand to Duncan, who took it and resisted the urge to squeeze and amputate it.

"It was no problem. I took good care of her while you were gone—at work, I mean. She's…really a mess without you." He bit his tongue so hard it drew blood.

He didn't know Duncan knew the reasons behind him leaving and nodded. "Well, good job."

"It wasn't any trouble." Courtney closed her eyes right against Andrew's jacket. Duncan was saying this for her.

(But I just found someone special,

And that's really something special…)

Courtney finally spoke up. "Hi," she said very quietly to Andrew.

"Sweetheart," he said, smiling warmly. She knew it was only a matter of time before his real self came out.

He kissed her first on the forehead, then on the cheek, then on the mouth for a long, long time.

Andrew didn't even know where she worked, for crying out loud, Duncan thought.

Duncan couldn't deal with it. He shut the door behind him and walked back to his apartment, trying to erase the memory of the two locked at the mouth from his mind.

(If you knew me,

Nice to meet you, anyway…)

"Ohhh." Courtney groaned as she hesitated with her fist halfway to the door—and let it fall back again. She couldn't knock. She couldn't knock.

Why was it so hard? It was easy. But not for her. "Ugh." Courtney was disgusted with herself. She had a backbone. It was vacationing in Mexico right now.

"You can do it, Courtney," she pepped herself. "Yeah. Okay…here I go—"

Her fist was touching the door when it flew open and she found herself not even six inches from Duncan. In the flesh. She took a step backward.

"Courtney?" Duncan looked mildly surprised, and somewhat amused. Well. What a relief. He was amused. The joys of sarcasm. The expression on his face changed and reminded her of Andrew; a mixture of pity, maybe some anger.

(And the sky opened up,

And I saw your other side…)

He was standing in the doorway with a basket of dirty laundry under his arm. Courtney though she recognized a few of her own personal belongings in the bunch: her shirt, her work pants—was that her bra? Well, of course it was. It didn't belong to him, after all. She hoped not at least. Unless he was sleeping with other women? Her gut wrenched and then tightened uncomfortably at the thought.

But she had no time to dwell on it. She was too busy being humiliated.

"Um. You…left your wallet at my apartment. So I came back to return to you—I mean, return it to you." She felt mortified. Her cheeks felt that way.

His expression wavered at that little error she'd made, but corrected itself and smoothed over. "Thanks." He took it from her. Maybe it was her, but she felt a strange electrical shock when their fingers touched. She didn't get that feeling with her husband. She didn't get it at all.

(Dreaming of,

My true love…)

Suddenly, and for no explainable reason, she felt a little angry. Was that really all? Did it end just like that? "Is that all you have to say?"

He shrugged. "What do you want from me? You're the one who…" He never finished. She knew what he was going to say, anyhow, didn't she?

He leaned against his doorframe, flipping open the wallet and running through his bills, then his credit card, then his driver's license, like he'd expected her to steal something from him. He didn't say a word.

That was fine. She could play that game. She stayed silent and hooked her thumbs into her pockets, feeling lost, and feeling somewhat combative. She thought he was leaning forward, maybe to kiss her, but he couldn't…

(So before this goes too far,

Let me tell you what you are…)

Finally, he looked up. "What do you want me to say to you, Courtney?"

She blinked. That was the last thing she expected from him. "What?"

He closed the wallet and held it in his closed fist. "I don't have a clue. Not a clue. It's like your pulling me closer with one hand and pushing me away with the other. I don't know how to react."

It struck her, the trueness of his words. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. "I…what do you mean?"

He moved his shoulders, up then down. "I think you know."

She did. She did exactly. She couldn't say a word.

"I think you have to go," he said smoothly, expressionlessly. "So do I."

He walked past her and retreated down the hall to the laundry room, basket under his arm and his shoes thumping on the carpeted floor.

What she didn't understand is how she could be so in love with two people at once. Andrew was amazing, attractive, but cruel. And Duncan, he was just…needless to say, she was a little preoccupied with him.

(You're amazing, I'm attracted,

But I'm terribly distracted…)

White doves and yellow flowers.

Gold bells and black lapels.

Pressed pants and blue dresses.

It was the most beautiful wedding he'd imagined. And even in his wildest fantasies, it hadn't looked like this.

A collective sigh as the quarry of doves merrily shuttered around the room, bouncing off the windows. The priest was murmuring.

"…to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death."

She was there, frozen in time, a smile on her face and her eyes glassy. His eyes locked onto her, and he couldn't tear his eyes from her tarnished face.

(And I'm trying to be verbal,

And I'm back into this circle…)

The world would just stop, maybe for a moment, as white flowers were thrown into the air for the bride's benefit. She was walking, slowly down the aisle, towards him, closer, until he could reach out and touch her. She was so beautiful he could feel his eyes burning, and the whole aisle lit up with her. He couldn't look directly at her. He found it difficult. It was like staring into a very bright light.

She paused beside him, looking ahead. He could feel the apology seeping through her skin.

She couldn't look at him. She felt as if she was looking into a very bright light.

(Cause I just found someone special,

And that's really something special…)

"…to be my husband, to have and to hold, from his day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow…"

And then he walked forward, the mystery man, the cratered face and the strong jaw, the crew-cut sandy hair, and didn't wait for her to finish the vows. He swept her off her feet, letting her dress swing around her. The preacher smiled and the audience clapped appreciatively and Duncan froze as she kissed him. He didn't know her. She wished it wasn't this way.

(If you knew me…)

He didn't know why he'd come. He never did think he could handle seeing her, in another pair of arms, kissing someone else.

END AFFLICTION BRIDGE

______________________________________

Nice to meet you, nice to meet you

Nice to meet you anyway, Nice to meet you anyway,

Nice to meet you anyway, nice to meet you anyway

Even if you want me to stay here, I'm telling you right now I have to leave…

Before I start changing my mind here, I hope you understand what I mean,

I hope you understand what I mean, I hope you understand what I mean…

______________________________________

Basically, Courtney and Duncan are having an illicit affair. Courtney's married.

Well, I haven't edited this because I'm lazy, so if there are mistakes, I wouldn't be so surprised.

The last chapter will be up soon.

So long, goodnight. (Here's a hint.)

-- Hikasne

___________________________________________________________________________