Rainbowdisclaims: The idea for this story was given to me by WhiteWind13. He didn't like the way he wrote it the first time so he gave it to me to do with what I please…and here we are. I also don't own Life with Derek. It belongs to Disney and whoever else owns it. This is also my first story on here I believe, unless I've written one I've forgotten about…

Rainbowwants: Three positive reviews before continuing on with this story. However I cannot be held responsible for random posting out of sheer geeky excitement. I apologize in advance for such posts.

Rainbowsays: Onto the story!

I.

Alone

Derek jolted awake, sitting up abruptly in the bed he was apparently in. A sharp pain in his side alerted him to lay back down. A small whimper of agony escaped his lips as he did so. His stomach was wrapped, carefully, almost professionally. His leg was also bandaged, and as he turned to see it, he noticed that it too was at the very least fractured. And then there was his head. He put his hand to the back of it and noticed that it also had a bandage around it. His head seemed like it would explode at any second and, in all honesty, he wished it would. It would end the pain. All of it. There was pain in him that wouldn't go away with the wounds, and he knew at that moment that his life had changed. He had no home. His family had disowned him. He had no way to support himself. He was a gutter child now, thrown out to live among the trash and the drug addicts that walked the streets of the night. But most of all, he was scared. He wasn't used to fear. It was foreign to him. He'd only been afraid when he was a child, naïve enough to believe the monster-under-your-bed-stories. He didn't know how to handle it, and as the events of the night before began replaying themselves in his mind, he did something that he hadn't done since he was a young boy. He pulled the blanket up over his head and began to cry.

He remembered the yelling.

"What do you mean, 'you're gay'?" George spat as he looked spitefully at his oldest son. Anger was ablaze in his eyes and Derek could tell that this was not going to turn out anywhere near the realm of alright. He never expected things to turn out this way, though.

"It's not that big of a deal…"Derek meekly muttered out, fearing what would happen at this point in time. That was possibly the worst thing he could say at that particular moment in time, and he so realized this when the wooden chair his father had been sitting on moments before collided with his ribs. With a sickening crack, Derek fell to the ground groaning and clutching his side in pain.

"Not that big of a deal!" George was furious. He brought his foot down hard on Derek's leg, which earned him another scream of agony. Nora had rushed the younger kids out of the room, in which time Casey threw her arms around his waist and pulled back with as much force as she could muster. George however, was much stronger than she, and threw her off of him in an angry huff. He was red in the face, and he continued shouting. "This is a VERY big FUCKING DEAL! I will not raise a filthy little FAGGOT in MY HOUSE!" Derek looked up, fear coating his usually jovial eyes. "What about my GRANDCHILDREN! WHAT ABOUT YOUR FAMILY! YOU! You have to carry on my NAME!" The shouting had risen to a volume that scared Marti, and she shrieked, yelling something about how daddy was scaring her. Derek paid no attention. He'd lost. He'd been defeated. He looked one more time into the man's eyes, hoping to see some form of love and understanding, but was met with cold anger and hatred. He realized he'd lost his father. He lost his home. He was no longer a Venturi.

He remembered the talk with his step-mom.

Things had died down a bit. George had retired, ranting and raving all the way, to his room. He had told Derek that he had three hours to 'get his shit out of his house'. Derek paced upstairs, hurriedly throwing clothes, pictures, a book, and other belongings in the few duffel bags he had. His side hurt, and he couldn't put much pressure on his leg without it giving underneath him. He had no idea where he would go. His thought's reeling, he gazed sadly at a picture he'd found amongst the shambles his room was constantly in. His father and Edwin had gone to the zoo. There was a large plastic statue of a lion, standing proudly on a rock. Edwin was four, and Derek eight. Edwin had climbed on top of the lion's neck and was straddling his mane, and Derek stood underneath, trying to look uninterested, but failing miserably. The reminiscing was cut short by a soft knock on his door.. He warily opened it to find Nora on the other side looking distraught.

"I'm leaving…" Nora noted the shake in his voice as he said this. In light of the display of pure carnal rage that her husband had shown toward him, she expected no less. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and doing the only thing she could think of, threw her arms around the young man she'd come to love as her son. He enjoyed the embrace, knowing that it could be the last one from her.

"I'm so proud of you…" she half-sobbed. Derek felt himself tearing up as well. Nora cupped his face in her hands. "Your father is wrong. You are a good boy." She said. She held so much passion in those words. A stray tear made its way down Derek's cheek. "Where are you going to go?" she asked. In those six words, Derek felt all hope leave his mind. He knew there was nothing that could save him. He was being forced out of his home. He'd dug himself into a hole, and nobody had a ladder to throw him. He walked back to his bed and sat down. A long sigh escaped his throat.

"I don't know."

He remembered being thrown out.

"You can't seriously do this to your own son George!" Casey screamed. George paid no mind however, his menacing eyes never leaving Derek. He had his duffel bags on his shoulder and one of his old crutches tucked under his arm from when he broke his leg in hockey. Hockey. Would he be able to play again? What about school? George started speaking again.

"You are no longer welcome in this house, Derek." George said, words dripping with acid. Nora had gone upstairs to make sure the younger children were alright. Edwin was especially shaken because he was torn between whose side to take on the matter. He didn't know much about homosexuality, but he knew that the Bible said it was wrong. The Venturi's had never been the religious type, but why start now? Confusion took over his mind as he paced the floor in his bedroom. Lizzie, always the calm, level-headed, voice of reason, was now silent. Not saying a word, she curled up in her comforter and silently wept, astonished at the outright discrimination that took place that evening. She contemplated what this meant for their family. Derek would no longer be around, and she realized that the high tension would take a giant toll on the conjoined unit. And even at a mere thirteen years old, she knew that the marriage between her mother and this monster was hanging by a thread, and it was only a matter of time before it was cut. Marti was asleep, young and foolish enough to believe that her big brother would be there when she woke up. She'd never heard her daddy use such horrible language, but even though she was afraid, she would wake up with no feelings harbored toward the night before. And then she would realize her big brother was gone. She would cry, scream. She wouldn't understand. She was too young. Nora sat in her bathroom. A cigarette made its way to her lips, and blowing the smoke out of the window, she tried to hold it together for the kids. The wine glass in her hands was filled with a much stronger bourbon, and it made its way to her lips as she swallowed half of it in one large swig. Her husband, the man she fell in love with, had gone. He was not the man he used to be. She let a silent tear fall down her face as she gulped the rest of the firewater down, and took her anger out on the glass, throwing it to the floor with a loud shatter. Casey stood, trying her best to reason with the man Derek had seen as his father. She seemed to be making no progress however, and she feared things were about to take a turn for the worse. She'd never felt so afraid for Derek. He was the one that was always in charge, in control, and even though she would never admit it out loud, she always looked up to him because of the strength and calm he always seemed to exude. She couldn't do anything for him, however, and she knew this. But nothing ever stopped Casey McDonald from trying damnit. Derek faced his father, fear etching his features, unsure of where this would go. He used his last 'trump card'.

"Casey's…right dad. This is illeg…"

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" George yelled. He grabbed for Derek's throat. Tightening his grip, he launched the boy through the door, causing him to slip on the ice below. His head hit the concrete with brute force, and his world went quiet and hazy. He should've known it wouldn't work. His father was the most stubborn man in Canada. For a moment though, he saw his childhood. He was three, and he'd scraped his knee on the concrete. He was bleeding and he couldn't figure out what it was. He was scared. His daddy picked him up and held him, whispering how it would be alright. Then he was seven. It was Christmas, and he'd opened the box under the tree to find his BB gun. He'd wanted it so badly, he couldn't hardly stand it. He was so happy that he ended up shooting a window on the neighbor's house. He was fourteen. He was camping with his best friend. They were toasting marshmallows over the fire, and Sam fell off the log into the mud. He stripped his shirt off, and Derek had a moment of realization. He liked the way Sam looked. His newly formed muscles, and his pre-six-pack. Derek realized then that he was gay. He was sixteen. He was in Sam's car, passing a joint back and forth with his best friend. They'd just come from a party, which, for all the hype that led up to it, was actually extremely boring. He and Sam left early, deciding to have some fun of their own and bought a dime from a guy they knew from school. They rolled up two joints and hit the road. They were stoned by the time they got to the lake and the sunset looked beautiful, and was highlighted more so by the fact that they were blazed. Derek glanced over at his best friend, his brother, and had his second moment of self-discovery. He was in love with him. He was seventeen. He'd had enough. Nom ore hiding. No more lies. He was going to tell them today. He needed to get it out on the table, and that's exactly what he was going to do. He gathered up all the strength and pride he had and made his way down the stairs. He looked into each and every one of their eyes and made his announcement. Things went horribly wrong. He looked up, he could see the door being slammed shut…but it was incredibly foggy, and it seemed as if he was underwater. He tried to get up, but failed. Slowly crawling across the yard, he made it to the street, and with one last valiant, but fruitless, effort, attempted to get on his feet. He fell, his world fading to black, and his mind going with it.

Yes Derek remembered all of this. It plagued his mind and caused him pain. More pain than anything that could physically be done to him. He'd lost everything. He remembered his bags. He tried looking around for them but was met again with darkness, and a sharp, stabbing, pain in his ribs. He laid down, defeated. He slowly inhaled, trying to collect himself, and noticed that the aroma of the room was familiar to him. It smelled like peppermint with a hint of the ocean. He held onto it, the last pleasant memory he thought he may ever have, and even though he couldn't place his finger on where he remembered it from, it brought him a strange sense of comfort. He began breathing deeply into the blankets, trying to jog his memory. He heard a door open to the right of him, and a light flooded the room. In that split second, Derek got a glance at the dresser, TV, and various photos on in the room. The wall was a sandy color, and he recognized immediately where he was. And that thought scared him more than anything. He knew there would be an explanation needed. What would he tell him? The truth? No. Look where that got him the last time. But could he really lie anymore? It had been tearing him apart from day 1. He didn't have much time to think on it before the door opened and an all too familiar voice echoed through Derek's ears.

"You feelin' alright?"

And at that moment, Derek Venturi had never felt more alone.