A/N:
Two days, I know, but life kind of caught up with me. Anyway, two more stories today! =) One for Victoria and the other one is a surprise.

Aiketi

"Sick of crying, tired of trying, yeah I'm smiling but inside I'm dying."

Everything turned into white, Addison noticed, and laughed at the irony of wearing black – the color of grief when all she saw was the color white; the hospital walls, the bright lights hanging above her and the pale skin of death in front of her covered in a white blanket.

Addison sighed, her heart heavy with guilt and anger, she stepped outside the room and dialed a familiar number.

It was ringing and Addison's heart started beating so rapidly that she feared she would fall over and lose consciousness. He did not pick up before the seventh ring and up until then Addison had hoped to flee this moment – delay delivering a message, an unavoidable truth that made Addison sick to her stomach.

"Hey Addie, how are you?"

His voice was soft and caring which was constricting her chest and making it hard to breath. It had been a long time since they had last talked and hearing his voice with a well-known and long-absent gentleness made it almost impossible for her to say anything, letting alone telling him that his baby sister had died only six hours ago.

So she kept quiet, breathing in and out rhythmically, and trying to find the right words to say. But Addison knew well that there were no right words, nothing could even attempt to convey the hurt and helplessness one felt at losing someone so close.

Derek knew, too. He had lost his father when he had been nine years old. Good people did not deserve to be punished so brutally, Addison admonished God, if there was one, she added to this train of thoughts he appeared to be inadequately unjust.

"Addie? What's wrong?"

And there it was; worry. Addison had vowed to herself after the divorce never to hurt him like she had before and even though she knew that she could not spare him the pain, Addison felt like she was responsible for keeping them, Derek and Amelia, safe and unharmed. She had failed them both, Addison thought, and when the tears welled up in her eyes she started crying while sinking to the floor in pure defeat.

The cell fell from her hand onto the floor. Addison brought her knees close to her chest and buried her face in her hands, weeping; for Amelia, for Derek and for herself.

"Addie? What's wrong? Addie? Addie?"

Derek's concern for her was growing with every second passing and with every desperate cry he heard. Something was very wrong and he needed to know what it was so he could attempt to fix it. He simply needed to help.

"Derek."

It was not a question. It was merely stated, holding an amount of apathy only shock can offer.

"Sam? What's wrong? Addison, is she hurt?"

Sam sighed deeply, closed his eyes and when he spoke he knew that he was going to reveal a truth they had all known was coming and yet they had all stood passively next to the impending crash, either unwilling or unable to interfere.

"It's not Addison," Sam paused, willing himself to continue, "It's Amelia. She's dead. I'm so sor…"

But Sam was interrupted by Derek.

"What?" His voice sounded angry, it confused Sam. It would not, though, have surprised Addison. Derek dealt with tragedy by shutting unwanted emotions out, much like closing the door on a persistent salesman. He retreated into a shell of avoidance. He had always done that. Pain was a sign of weakness and a loss of control Derek had banned from his life; at all costs, Addison had learned that the hard way.

"What what?" Sam asked in irritation.

"What did she take?"

Derek's voice sounded harsh. It stunned Sam. Addison would have been prepared for the anger Derek bluntly displayed. Addison knew that whenever something made him feel helpless and betrayed he liked to blame; it was his own method to substitute pain with blame. It might have sounded selfish to anyone uninvolved, but it did not to Addison. To her it was not selfishness but merely self-preservation in a life that had never played fairly with him in the first place.

"Oxycodon."

Derek was silent for a few moments. He thanked Sam for his help so far and told him that Derek would arranged anything further regarding the funeral and transportation to Connecticut.

Then Derek hung up and took the rest of the day off. He sat on the half-finished porch on his land, staring at his cell phone before he dialed his mother; it took him three hours to find the courage.

He was her big brother and he had failed her.

The end.