Slothkeeper: Ok, um, I know I have a lot o stories to update...stories that I haven't updated in months. And this is just something I thought up of out of the blue. I don't know how, or why I came up with it, it just happened. Well, I hope you enjoy it. I'm not sure whether to update this or just keep it as a one-shot, but whatever.

Just to let you know, Derek might seem a little oc, but I just wanted to dive into another, not so often looked at side of him.

Disclaimer: I do not own LWD or Supernatural

Derek Venturi was not a quiet guy. From her three years experience living with him, Casey McDonald knew that a quiet Derek, was a bad Derek. It either meant one of two things. One, he could be plotting some evil, cruel prank that'll seriously make her life suck. The second option, and most unlikely, was that Derek Venturi was depressed. She had only seen a depressed Derek once, when he and Sally had broken up. He felt vulnerable and scared and he shown emotions she had never thought existed in him. So, seeing as a depressed Derek was the most unlikely reason, Casey McDonald decided to discover what her step-brother had up his crafty sleeves.

Questioning him after dinner was probably the best way to approach it. The time during dinner gave her ample opportunity to dissect Derek. To see if there was anything out of the ordinary. She watched him poke his dinner with mild interest. She wasn't all that surprised really. IT was just tofu. Derek never ate anything unless it came from either a cow, pig, or bird. Turning to her own tofu, Casey heard the sound o clattering silverware. Ignoring it, leaving it to the idea that Marti was playing with her utensils, Casey stated to dig in. However, a sight out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

"Derek….Are you eating tofu?" Edwin asked. An eerie silence lingered over the dinner table as both the McDonalds and the Venturis stared at Derek, who was eating the tofu plate with mild interest. The boy turned his head to his brother, a neutral expression on his face.

"Yeah. So?" he replied with barely any emotion in his voice.

"Derek, that's great that you're taking an interest in new foods." Nora commented.

"Yeah Derek, good for you." George told his son. Casey could have sworn she saw a glint in Derek's eyes. However, it was very brief and he looked as neutral as he did seconds ago. Derek shoveled the remains of his tofu, not even grimacing one bit. Casey was amazed at how calm he ate, not a single complaint rising from his throat. He excused himself and left for his room in silence. Casey's eyes followed him before she turned to her mother.

"Um, I'm stuffed mom. Can I be excused?" With her mother's approval, Casey left the table and headed upstairs. Instead of headed straight to her room, she stopped to the door that stood just before her own. Pressing her ears to the door, she heard nothing but silence. An eerie silence at that. It was almost like the same silence she had been in during dinner. Taking the risk, she knocked on the door. "Derek? Are you alright?"

There was a long pause. Perhaps he had fallen asleep. Sudden she heard a noise, as if someone has jumped off a springy mattress. She heard a click and the door opened slowly. Derek's head stuck out of the crack and he stared at her. "What do you want?" he asked her, his voice cracking slightly. Casey noticed his eyes were slightly watery and there were streaks on his face.

"Derek, were you crying?" He didn't say anything. He just stared at her, with a lost expression on his face. She started to grow concern for him. She hadn't seen him like this since Sally. Although he hadn't cried, but he had the same lost look on his face as he did when the two of them separated. If Casey remembered correctly, it took almost five days for Derek to return to his normal, arrogant self.

"Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been crying?" Again, he didn't answer her. "Is this about Sally? Derek, I thought you got over her?"

"It's not Sally." he said bluntly, returning to his bed. The fact that he didn't bother to close the door on her scared her somewhat. Taking a step into the room cautiously, Casey watched Derek as he lay in his bed, his blanket securely wrapped around like a protective cocoon. She could hear a slight sniffle from her step brother. Some was seriously wrong.

"Derek?"

"My life's a complete lie you know that?" His voice was so quiet that Casey barely heard him. When she realized what he had said, she was confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Here I am, acting like some big, macho, tough guy. Trying to live up to the Venturi name…" Casey could hear a slight quiver in his voice. She didn't know whether to go up to him and try to comfort him or just stay where she was and listen to him. "Turns out I'm nothing but a phony." There was a hint of anger in his voice that Casey never thought possible. "I'm not even Canadian."

"Derek what are you talking about?" Casey asked, having enough. She couldn't stand seeing him like this. This…this was not Derek Venturi. This was someone else. Someone had obviously taken his place, replacing him with this weak, vulnerable person that was curled up in a ball in front of her. She heard a slight rustling and Derek was facing her, new tear lines had appeared on his face. He dug into the blanket that was covering and pulled out something. It was a thin, dirty old piece of paper. He held it out to her, turning his face away from her. Slowly, she went up to him and picked it out of his hand.

Looking down at it, she had realized that the piece of paper was a birth certificate. More specifically Derek's birth certificate. "This is what you've been crying about. Derek, no offence, but that's kinda pathetic and this is coming from me." Casey said. She didn't mean to sound so mean, but it was true. Why should he be crying over something like this? However, Derek didn't seem so offended.

"Read it."

Raising an eyebrow, Casey looked down at the certificate. She read the certificate and instantly discovered something wrong with it. "Derek, this says you were born June 12th, 1990. That's not right. I thought your birthday was in January."

"So did I. Keep reading." She did, and discovered more and more things were wrong.

"This isn't right. Derek, according to his, you were born in South Dakota. I thought you were born in London." Derek didn't say anything. His eyes urged her on to read, but she wasn't sure she wanted to. Forcing herself to look down, Casey continued to read. She stopped. She couldn't believe it, she couldn't believe her eyes. This must be some cruel joke, another one of Derek's practical jokes. He was trying to get something from her. Sympathy, catch her be vulnerable or even heart warming. However, after looking into his eyes, Casey knew this was no joke. "Derek…I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry."

"Doesn't matter anyways." he said, turning over in his bed.

"But Derek, this is serious. Don't you care?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I can do anything about it."

"Derek, don't be like that." Casey urged him, "you can't just lay there and mope around. Aren't you even going to confront George about this?"

"Why would he care?"

"Maybe because he's your dad?" Derek turned so fast, glaring at her with such hate that she almost fell back. He sat up, all signs of the vulnerable Derek was gone. Had he finally snapped? Did she say something that finally brought down the perfectly put together walls he had built to protect himself?

"Did you not read that Casey? George isn't my father." he said, with such bitterness that Casey felt her chest hurt. "He's nothing but a liar."

"Derek…"

"I don't even know how he got custody of me in the first place." He said, his voice still even. "My mother…well Anna probably couldn't get custody of me because of the drug abuse and shit."

"Derek…"

"What am I supposed to do Casey?" he asked her. He looked desperate, lost, angry, confused. But most of all, Derek looked scared. "I don't know what to do." There was a slight whimper in his voice and Casey moved towards him, taking a seat on his bed, not caring if he got angry or not. Maternal instincts kicked in and she brought him closer to her, pulling him into a hug. She rubbed his back, trying to calm him. He didn't cry, didn't pull away, didn't even struggle. He just stayed there, blank faced.

"We'll figure this out Derek. We'll try to figure this out. We…we could try looking for them. I mean, if you want. Emily's mom works for a P.I. We could ask him to tract down your birth parents." She flet movement on her shoulder, as if Derek was nodded. She hated seeing him like this. She hated Seeing Derek so…vulnerable, so lost and confused. It was like there was nothing left of the Derek Venturi that gotten on her nerves. No, there nothing left of Derek Venturi. Derek Venturi was nothing but a lost memory, one that would probably never return. No, the one, sitting defenselessly in her arms was not Derek Venturi. The one in her arms was Derek Singer, son of Robert and Amanda Singer of South Dakota, USA.