Disclaimer: I do not own LWD.

As mentioned one sad oneshot. Hope it isn't too depressing, but will warn I got a bit teary eyed writing this at one point!

Pink and Tears

The sky was uncharacteristically dark, and the rain coming down in more of a waterfall than a shower. I could barely hear anything over the noise of it on my umbrella. I was grateful that I didn't have to listen to the words, and that my vision into that perfectly rectangular whole was blurred. Because honestly I didn't know if I was ready to accept the clarity of it all yet, or if I ever would.

The one thing I couldn't blur out were the soft sobs beside me, or the salty moisture gathering on my shoulder that had nothing to do with the rain. I tightened my grip around the crying figure pulling her closer. Normally I wouldn't be comfortable with this, but there was nothing normal about this.

I didn't want to think about how she felt anymore. The pain I had seen in her already was something I wished I could erase from my memory.

Thunder began to rumble from somewhere close by, and from the corner of my eye I saw several people fidgeting uncomfortably. But the five figures around me stayed solid in their stance as did I. None of us ready to let go.

I looked over to my left, over the figure clinging to me. My dad was the first person who caught my eye. It was clear he was broken by his eyes, but no tears fell as he stared hard ahead. Wrapped around him at the waist was my sister Marti, she had her head buried into his side. I couldn't see her face, but I knew there were tears there, as there had been for the past week. She was just old enough to understand what this all meant, but hardly mature enough to cope.

To my right stood two more desolate figures. They stood together under a large umbrella without touching one another. In the arms of the young girl was a white bundle she held close to her shoulder and was whispering teary soothing words to. He was quite though, almost as though he understood the sullen need for it at even a week old.

Holding the umbrella and crying in a way I would never allow myself to was Edwin. This was the first time I had seen of him in nearly four days. He had kept himself locked away in that attic and the hollow bags under his eyes told me he hadn't been sleeping.

Not that I was one to talk, my nights had been spent in a similar way. Though with slightly less solidarity, as I was somehow given the job of keeping together the girl who was currently unraveling beside me.

The first night was the worst.

The morning it had happened she didn't cry. She was the only one who hadn't.

When George came through the double doors to meet us, all excitedly waiting on our feet for news on the delivery, I knew right away. He looked as though he had been robbed and beaten as he asked Marti go get a candy from the vending machine so he could talk to us.

He began to cry when she left the room; it was the first time I had ever seen my father cry. As he began relating in a broken voice what happened Lizzie began to cry too and said she didn't want to hear anymore as she threw herself into my father's arms. Edwin walked over and silently joined in, tears pouring down his face.

I felt like crying, but wasn't sure what to do. I looked to Casey, but she didn't see me, I wasn't sure if she saw anything. George was talking to her, but she wasn't listening.

She just sat stunned in that hospital chair, unable to speak or move at first for almost an hour. I watched her warily expecting that at any moment she would move from stage one of grief directly into hysterical crying. But it never happened.

Instead she quietly got up and placed her arms around me, and I realized it was just us left in the waiting room and that I was the one hysterically crying. It was so wrong, but she began comforting me.

That night she turned into almost a robot, taking care of everything that George couldn't in the messy state he was left in. Putting Marti to bed, holding Lizzie through her tearful fits, making phone calls, cooking and forcing everyone to eat.

It had been Casey who arranged everything. And it had been Casey who had worked so hard to hold everyone together. Even caring for their newest brother Colin, who seemed so unaware at what cost he had come into this world days before.

But late at night, when everyone including Colin had fallen asleep my door opened. I didn't have to turn my light on to know who it was quietly climbing into my bed, or to recognize the arms that clung to me that night. She still refused to cry, and neither of us slept that night as I held her to me running my hands through her hair that was just below my chin.

It was the first time I had ever allowed her to touch me like this, and through the grief I felt, I found my body reveling in being able to finally hold her to me.

That night we talked in an unguarded way we never had before. She told me she was leaving Queens that night that the family needs her too much here. It only took me a minute to decide and tell her I was doing the same. She may not have known it, but I knew it was her that needed me there. I told her it was only temporary, that when the time was right I was going back and taking her with me. Neither of us laughed.

I began crying again, and it was her hands in my hair then, her fingers stroking away the tears from my cheek. We stayed that way until the baby monitor she had placed on my desk signaled Colin had woken up shortly after.

Each night after passed the same way in the fleeting hours between Colin's feeding. Some nights I would join Casey, or take care of him myself. But other nights I couldn't face that perfect face that looked so much like his mothers, and wondered how Casey could with the tenderness that she did.

Then last night my Dad had thanked Casey and said he was ready to. I thought it would be a relief, but instead that night when she slipped into my room without the baby monitor something was different. She hovered standing beside the bed as she whispered my name. "Derek?"

"Yeah?" I asked sitting up.

"I don't' think I can do it anymore." Her voice was low and desperate. I reached for her hand, slightly scared.

"Do what Casey?" Her hand was limp in mine as I rubbed circles with my thumb.

"I can't…" Her voice cracked, and I found myself leaping out of bed and pulling her into my arms. "I can't do it. I ne-nn-need her."

I let out a breath I had been holding all week as she slumped into me, tears falling down my shirt. I began rubbing her back. "We all do."

She looked up to me, and even in the dark I could see her wet face. "I can't make this better, I can't help."

She was shaking, and I found myself crying too. I held her to me tighter. "Casey, you can't fix this all on your own, or all at once. No one expects that of you. We're all going to be broken for a while I think. But eventually, it'll be okay again."

Her eyes looked up into mine and she was gasping for air. "I miss her so much."

"I know." I kissed her hair, laying us down in the bed. That night in my arms we both cried openly, until we had no more tears left. For the first time all week we both slept, and when I woke up this morning I felt like my words I told her last night might have had some truth in them.

As I looked at the coffin covered in vibrant pink roses before me, I promised Nora I would do my best to make those words come true. I would do all I could to keep my family together and someday things would be okay. That would be what she would want, and it would be my final favor to her.