Hang in there, guys. Things will get better, I promise. The early days are tough, as it is for anyone dealing with great loss and grief, coping with new limitations, and it was far from easy to write. I will be the first to admit this story is not fully factually accurate even with my research, but I do things a certain way so I can bend them or twist them my way later. Still, don't hesitate to offer any criticism/advice/corrections. I'm always looking to improve as a writer. Also, I'm naming chapters for the first time in my LIFE. Feel free to laugh openly at my lack of creativity but titles of any kind have always been my Achilles Heel so I'm trying to practice :)

This story, I don't believe I mentioned, is set in high school. I put it about post-Max/post-Kendra but pre-Truman/pre-Sally.

I do not own Life with Derek.

VULNERABILITY

Paraplegia. Paraplegia. Paraplegia.

It didn't matter how many times he said it, he still couldn't believe it. The Great Derek Venturi was paralyzed from the waist down. He could no longer, and never again, move his legs, or the lower half of his body. He couldn't walk. He couldn't go to the bathroom without assistance. He could never play hockey again. Or give Marti a piggy back. Or chase Edwin around the house and up the stairs. Hell he couldn't even get up the stairs without a lift. He couldn't tackle Casey to the ground in an epic battle for the remote. He couldn't go swimming with friends or bowling (like he used to) or even take an escalator at the mall. He'd be the friend who'd be in the way in the movie theatre, parked in the aisle. He'd take extra long to get in and out of the car and other places. He'd be that guy who made others on the bus miss their next one, because it took so much extra time to strap him in. He'd spend his life in a chair. He wouldn't get to coach his son's hockey team like he planned to in the future.

Fuck, he couldn't even have a son. He sure as hell couldn't make love to someone without his lower half functioning. Derek stared at the ceiling, the all too familiar lump forming in this throat as it had many times in the past few weeks.

He was going through rehabilitation at the moment, learning how to use his chair, exploring his limits, adjusting to his new condition. He had to see a therapist too to see how he was coping. He just wanted out. But he couldn't face his friends, his family, the reality of when he went back to his life, everything would be different. And it could never go back to the way it was. Ever.

His whole life plan, even the simplest things, had been crushed, ruined, smashed to smithereens, broken into fragments of a hopeful future that could no longer exist. He couldn't play in the Olympics. He couldn't walk the Wall of China, or swim in the Mediterranean waters, or pick up hot Mexican girls. Hell, would he even be able to have a healthy relationship with a girl ever? Would anyone even look at him when he was in a wheelchair?

These thoughts infected his thoughts for the weeks he spent in rehab. The drive home from there was silent. George left him alone mostly, making small talk when he felt necessary, but Derek didn't bite so it petered out rather quickly.

When they arrived at number 271 on their street, Derek was surprised to see the ramp attached to the porch. Now the whole world would know of his condition. For some reason, this made Derek angry. Why was it anyone's business what was wrong with him? Why did they need to know?

George unbuckled his chair from its ties in the back of the family van. Derek realized that they couldn't all travel in one car anymore since they had to remove a couple seats to fit him in. Could this get any worse?

Derek remained silent as he wheeled himself up the ramp to their house. He had to stretch to reach the doorknob and he exhaled heavily, trying to release his frustration, before he headed inside the house.

Edwin and Lizzie looked up from the TV and their faces lit up seeing his return.

"Derek!" his little brother called, running over and hesitating, not sure whether hugging him would get him pulverised or not.

Derek tried not to think about how much less intimidating he was now that Edwin could easily outrun him. He ruffled his hair, not wanting to hurt him by pulling him over the armrest for a hug. "Hey bro." he said quietly, forcing a smile.

"Welcome home, Derek." Lizzie said, smiling brightly, and put an arm around his shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze before moving out of the way so Marti could pounce on him.

"Smerek! You're home!" she squealed, collapsing on his lap and hugging him tightly.

It was about the only time he was slightly grateful he had no feeling in his legs, as she was getting heavier each year she grew up.

"I missed you, Smarti." Derek said, smiling more easily now, grateful that his little sister was still the same charming little girl she always had been and hadn't changed around him.

After releasing his little sister, Derek realized that Casey was nowhere to be seen. Nora came out from the kitchen and hugged him tightly, albeit slightly awkwardly since she had to manoeuvre around the chair. But Derek was grateful; at least she didn't try to treat him strangely.

"So dinner is in a couple of hours. Um, we set up the lift, Derek, if you want to put your stuff in your room at all." she added tenderly.

He nodded, taking a proper look around the room first. He hadn't noticed when he first came in, but it was eerily clean. They removed the rug, had new storage boxes for the regular toys and misshapen items that usually littered the floor, and there was a small ramp attached so he could get up the first few stairs to get to the wall lift unit. He knew all the changes were for his benefit, but he still felt that unexplainable anger creep up again.

This was his problem. His condition. Why did the family have to make so many sacrifices for him? He couldn't even imagine the costs. Sure there's insurance but to cover constant physio appointments, a few weeks at rehab, a wheelchair, all the adjustments to the house and the time consuming fact of transporting him anywhere…well Derek didn't want to think about it anymore.

George excitedly showed him how to use the lift. He was obviously quite proud of it, although admitted it wasn't him who installed it as he didn't want to risk Derek's safety. When Derek finally reached the top of the stairs and wheeled off the platform, he let out a low growl of frustration as he attempted to fold it back up to save the space. Add that to another sacrifice to the family, installing the thing and having to deal with it being in the way all the time.

He wheeled into his room, getting caught on the mess of his floor and unable to proceed. He let his head meet his hands and let out a small sob. How had this happened?

He hadn't known that Casey chose that moment to come out of her bedroom, her eyes wide at seeing him not only home, but crying in his room.

She hesitated, unsure whether to comfort him like she wanted to, or leave him be. Not only were they not really friends but Derek didn't show weakness to anyone, especially her. She had never seen him cry in her life, but she was sure half the family, if not all, hadn't either. She didn't want to intrude on such a private, personal moment, especially when he was in such a vulnerable state. But she couldn't just leave him.

He wheeled backwards, trying to untangle himself from the clothes his wheels got caught in. It took Casey by surprise and when he nudged her foot with the back of the wheel, she let out a small yelp. Derek twisted to look over his shoulder, cheeks still wet, but a look of horror at what he'd done and a small childlike fear staring back at her.

"Sorry, didn't know you were there. Finally came to see me?" he asked, trying to put the usual sneer in his voice but just wasn't into it this time.

"Yeah, I just wanted to see how you're doing." Casey said, automatically crouching down and untangling his clothes from the chair.

"Fucking awesome." he snapped but followed with a nod of thanks for helping him out, a look of shame already crossing his face at his outburst. He knew it wasn't Casey's fault what happened to him. But everyone else was avoiding speaking about it like it was a disease and that if they brought it up, he'd go ballistic or something. They were all trying to act naturally, but it felt so fake that he couldn't take it.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Casey. I didn't mean to snap at you. This thing…my new life…it's fucking hell and I can't think straight. It's all still sinking in." he confessed, not looking at her.

She nodded, sweeping the clothes out of his way so he could make it to his bed. She sat on the edge while he wheeled over to sit in front of her. He didn't say anything about her being on his bed, although before there would have been a lot of yelling and freaking out involved.

"Derek… I can't imagine what you're going through. But you're The Great Derek Venturi! Triple D! You can get through this. You can beat this. Remember what the doctors said?" she added hopefully.

Derek nodded, remembering. Those first days he spent in the hospital were hard to remember. His grief had been overpowering and left him with little cognition. But the doctor told him he had only badly fractured his spine, and that the spinal cord was merely compressed, not severed, so there was a very, very, very, very, very (times a million more verys) small chance that he could get function back if the nerve swelling diminished. But it wasn't like when your ankle swelled, where you put on an icepack for a bit and you're soon back on your feet. Nerve swelling almost always spelled permanent with a capital P. But it could be worse. He could've been quadriplegic and only been able to move his head.

"Case… I don't even know who I am anymore." he admitted, refusing to look her in the eyes when he was being so weak. He knew he had a good excuse and all but this was Casey. CASEY. You know, that step-sister, enemy from the womb, Klutzilla-keener-psycho-drama-queen? Why was he having this personal conversation with her?

When he was at rehab, he didn't really talk to anyone but the therapist, and he couldn't really talk to them either. He had never been one to spill his feelings, let alone to a complete stranger. He had to give them something so he summarized, didn't get deeply involved, but told them what they wanted to hear, even if it wasn't true.

"D, you've always been so independent, and so well liked. That has nothing to do with whether or not your legs work. People adore your confidence, your charm, your natural charisma, your quick wit. They admire you. That won't change."

Derek sighed. "The guys admire my ability to pick up girls. That won't be happening anymore, that's for sure."

Casey scoffed. "Well at least now you can date someone with half a brain cell. Any girl who is going to not give you a chance because of your physical capabilities is a complete idiot who-"

"Actually might want to experience sex and children in later life." he finished for her. "Case, I can't give that to someone. I'd never expect somebody to give up all of their dreams for me. Are you saying you would give that up? Your white-picket-fence-kids-playing-in-the-backyard-loving-husband dream?"

"You could still show me you love me, Derek; sex does not equal love. I've survived this long without needing sex, I'm sure I can handle the rest of my life. And plus, there are other options to have kids in life. We could adopt, or do artificial insemination maybe, or-" Casey cut herself off, realizing that they were talking about a life and marriage together.

Derek seemed to realize this at about the same time as he turned bright red and didn't appear to be breathing normally.

"Anyways, you have options." she stated hurriedly.

"I guess. I just…I've been the ladies man for so long. I don't know who I am without that. Maybe 'the one' won't care, but until then…"

"Der, just be yourself. You'll figure out who that is. And who your true friends are." she added, absent-mindedly letting him play with her fingers in his.

"So you being in here with me… does that mean you're one of them?" he asked, looking up with vulnerable brown eyes.

She smiled, squeezing the hand that was now wrapped around hers. "Like you could ever get rid of me." she teased, getting up to give him some time alone but pausing near the door when he spoke.

"Casey…? Thanks." he muttered.

She paced back, wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"You're still just as annoying and just as much a reason to pull out my hair. That's one thing that won't change." she told him softly, before leaving to her room, confused by her tender actions she just put on such display in front of the guy who drove her absolutely insane on a daily basis.

Derek too was confused, but his fingers reached up to touch the stinging skin where her lips grazed. He finally smiled a little to himself.