"Is this the end of everything we know? This is the end of everything I am."

The snow around him brought with it a fresh sadness. School and band provided a needed distraction, but only a temporary one. Winter had always been his favorite time of the year, and the snow was only a reminder that nothing would ever be the same. Christmas had been a disaster, and his quickly approaching birthday would more than likely be no different. He was going to be late for grief counseling, but he took his time walking to his Dad's store anyway. He arrives there eventually, and kicks the snow off of his boots before walking through the old door. The bell above the door rings, and his father appears from one of the aisles.

"How was band?" James Shepherd asks, placing a few items into bag.

"Fine." Derek shrugs, placing his saxophone case and backpack behind the counter.

"Phil's here, so I'm ready whenever you are."

"I'm ready."

"Let's roll, then."

"What's in the bag?" Derek asks, as they walk towards his father's truck. He had his suspicions, but until he knew for sure, he could still pretend to be oblivious.

"Everything you need to fix the cabinet from throwing that toaster at it last week." James climbs into the drivers seat.

"I don't know how to fix it." Derek argues. He could probably figure it out if he tried, but he didn't want to.

"I'm going to teach you."

"This has to happen tonight?"

"Yes, because I'm sick of looking at it every time I walk into the kitchen."

"Then why haven't you fixed it?" Derek had saved a majority of his newly found surly attitude for his father lately, and he regrets none of it. A month ago, he never would have spoken to his Dad this way.

"I didn't do it, and it wasn't an accident." James sighs. "I'm trying to cut you some slack, but you are making it very difficult."

"Sorry." Derek says indignantly.

"I know you are, but you need to remember that you're not the only one going through a hard time."

"Whatever."

"Not whatever." James taps his fingers on the steering wheel, attempting to retain any amount of patience he had. Derek had observed this behavior many times over the past month. "The way you've been acting has to stop."

"Why?" Derek turns on the radio, and wills the traffic light in front of them to turn green.

"You're taking out your anger on us, and we do not deserve it." James turns the radio off. "I understand needing someone to blame, but..."

"I don't blame Mom."

"You blame me?" James asks, and lets what his son had just said sink in. "That's what all of this is about?"

"You decided to take her off of life support. You." Derek stares out of the window. "She could have woken up."

"She wouldn't have."

"You don't know that."

"The doctors said..."

"I know what the doctors said." Derek raises his voice, and interrupts James. "I heard it a hundred times."

"Even if she did wake up, she wouldn't have been Danielle." James tells him calmly, and parks his truck. "Tell me what I can do to make this easier for you, and I'll do it."

"Kill Mark while you're at it." Derek opens his door, and steps out onto the curb. "Then I won't have any friends."

"Derek..."

"Bye." He closes the door forcibly, and walks away. He climbs the steps to the school, and heads toward the gym. He walks through the halls on autopilot, until a voice stops him. He had seen her come out of the bathroom, but his anger hadn't allowed him to pay to much attention to her.

"Who pissed you off?" Meredith asks him, moving closer to him.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Want to talk about why you're late?"

"Practice."

"You're practicing being late?"

"No, I had band practice...or rehearsal." Derek corrects himself. "They keep yelling at me for calling it practice."

"You're in a band?"

"Not the recording songs, playing gigs kind." Derek tells her. "The marching kind."

"Oh, that makes more sense." She laughs. "I can so see you in a shako."

"You know what a shako is?"

"There is very little I don't know."

"That's a pretty obscure thing to know."

"What are your school's colors?" She asks. "So I can get the whole picture."

"Black and gold."

"Hmm, that's not nearly as gaudy as I was hoping."

"My uniform is mostly gold."

"There we go."

"It looks awesome with my saxophone." He smiles. "Let me tell you."

"You have made my day, farmer boy."

"I'm not even wearing flannel today." He sighs. "Come on."

"You never should have let on that it annoys you."

"My grandparents own a farm in Maine." Derek confides. "My mother grew up there. She's mentioned sending me there a few times to give me an attitude adjustment until I'm myself again."

"Does she realize that may never happen?"

"I feel like I'm living someone else's life."

"Yeah, I'm sorry to tell you this, but your old life went sayonara with your sister." Meredith levels with him. "You might as well embrace your new one."

"Can we just stay out in the hall?" Derek asks when they get to the gymnasium doors.

"If you want to."

"Thank you." He leans against a locker, and slides down to the floor.

"Rough day?"

"You could say that." Derek takes his hat off, and smoothes his curls with his hands. "I may have just accused my father of killing my sister."

"Anesthesia killed your sister, Derek."

"No, it put her into a coma."

"There isn't going to be any arguing with you about this, is there?"

"No."

"How did your Dad feel about all of this?"

"He just wants to help."

"I think you're lucky to have him."

"You do?"

"Live with my mother for a day, and you'll agree wholeheartedly."

"No, thanks."

"What happened to your sister wasn't anyone's fault."

"I think that's the problem."

"I think the problem is that we are not at all capable of handling this."

"That too."