A/N: For a long time, I've wanted a drabble about Amelia's overdose when she was a teen - the reason she got clean the first time - but I haven't known how to write it until now. It differs from most of my drabbles in that it's primarily Derek's POV, rather than Amelia's, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy.

Bass pumped through the halls of the Shepherd house, so loud the picture frames starting to shake. Staged photos of familial joy unfolded a tapestry of their lives down the walls of their home, the smile on the lips of the youngest becoming smaller and smaller until the last, where it had disappeared altogether, along with its owner. They had waited hours for her to arrive, but to no avail. It wasn't until 2 AM that the teen stumbled in, eyeliner smeared, and a smirk upon chapped lips. Not once did she apologize or offer explanation. Leather boots clanked beneath her as she carried herself to her room - the room he now sought, the source of the sound, and where he hoped Amy would be.

Face flushed red, blood boiling beneath the surface, the only son of Carolyn and Christopher made his way past the portraits to find his baby sister before their mother returned from her errands. The hardest-working woman he had ever met, his mother shouldn't have to deal with this kind of heartbreak. Hadn't the littlest brought about enough of that already? From the raves to sleepovers at the apartment of the scumbag she called a boyfriend to the totaled car and binge-drinking, the girl had driven their family crazy with worry, but this? This was the last straw.

Long had Derek suspected that her new-found happiness was discovered at the bottom of a pill bottle, but never had he imagined her to stoop this low. Addison had tried to convince him it must have been an accident - that he had lost his prescription pad - but he knew it had been at the hands of the barely-eighteen year old it had gone missing. No longer could he give Amy the benefit of the doubt. No longer could he enable her self-destruction. No matter how long they all tried to dance around it - no matter how hard they tried to convince themselves she wasn't that bad, she would get better - the problem only seemed to get worse, and he intended to put an end to that.

He called for her, voice gruff and unforgiving. This wasn't going to be a family heart-to-heart. He would force her into rehab if he had to, or she would find a new home; perhaps with that horrid boyfriend of hers. Tough love; it was all he had left. So he stormed into her room, refusing to be ignored.

Cerulean eyes danced around the room, from the posters of pop stars to feathered pens and clothes strewn carelessly about the floor, until they finally landed on the empty pill bottle atop the girl's unmade bed. His heart sank, the sound of its beat pounding in her ear. But Amy was no where to be seen. A hand reached over to turn off the music, and he called her name once more, to no avail.

Stepping back into the hall, it was only then Derek noticed a line of light coming from beneath the door of the bathroom, and moved toward it. "Amy? Amy, open this door right now. We need to talk. You can't hide in there forever!" But all he got in return was more silence. "Amelia!"

He waited another beat before turning the knob and granting himself entrance, eyes widening at the sight that befell his gaze in return. Pale cheeks against the cold tile of the floor, tangles of hair across her face, bones jutting out from the bluish skin of her frail body. Rushing over to fall at her side, Derek turned her over to find her features a mess, from the smeared makeup to lines of dried spit dribbled down the side of her chin. Her lips had a purple tint that sent a horrible pang through her heart. The breath left his throat.

"Amelia- - -"

Fingers felt for a pulse, finding it weak and unsteady. He scrambled to grab his phone, now thankful Addie had insisted on this cellular phone business as he flipped it open to dial for an ambulance.

Thinking back to what he had learned of overdose, Derek started speaking loudly to her, trying to wake her but to no avail. He ran his knuckles along her sternum as he was taught, and it seemed centuries had passed, but her eyes flickered open. "Amy! Amy, can you hear me? Stay with me, okay? We'll get you to a hospital. It'll be okay. You'll be okay." The words were almost more for his own benefit than for hers.

Cracked lips parted, a small breath emerging as she tried and failed to respond. The crease between his brows deepened - a bad sign. He turned her onto her side into recovery position.

"Don't try to talk. Just breathe. Just breathe. I've got you." Derek sniffed, trying to force back the lump in his throat, the cold panic rushing through his veins. "I've got you," he repeated, brushing the hair from the clammy skin of her forehead.

Time seemed to drag on forever as they waited for the ambulance to arrive, as if it slowed just for them, an eternity spent in that bathroom, just the two of them wondering if each moment might be her last. His hand wrapped around hers, thumb making small circles as he mumbled reassurances and tried to keep his sister awake.

Dull eyes bulged, a sudden rush of fear as her muscles tightened for a moment, then fell limp again. Hoarse, pathetic sounds emanated from Amelia's throat as she desperately began to gasp for air. He felt so powerless, panic erasing all rational thought as he watched the girl clawing at the edge, scrambling so helplessly to cling to her life. He sprung to action, but not fast enough, and she was out again - this time, without a pulse. Oh, God.

"I will not lose you, Amelia. You are not dying tonight." His voice was weak and scared, but fear wouldn't stop him. Turning her onto her back, he began heavy chest compressions to keep her heart beating until help arrived.

The clock stopped, every second taking a century to pass, ears ringing as he fought to keep his sister alive. Only three minutes passed before paramedics rushed inside, the clunking of their boots against hardwood floors hardly registering until he was forced to move his fists just long enough that her shirt could be undone. His gaze followed every movement as pads were stuck to her chest, and the machine was charged. He was pulled away, everything drifting into a blur as the teen was jolted, body jolted over and over, until he was certain she wasn't coming back.

Fingers trembled, but all he could do was to stand and watch. No words, no tears, no cries. Just deathly silence and a pain in his heart that could never quite be explained nor matched. For all the growing she had done, as he looked at Amy now, all he could see was the little five year old girl in the back of their father's store laying before him. His baby sister - the one he had sworn to protect, the one he promised his father he would always keep safe. He had tried so hard to live up to his word, but nothing was ever quite enough when dealing with her. Quiet and safe seemed words outside her vocabulary, and she was anything but.

God, how was he supposed to tell his mother that her baby girl was dead? How was he going to tell his sisters and Addison and everyone else that he was too late? That he had failed at his job as big brother. How was he supposed to live with himself? His own heart may as well have been the one to give out because in that moment, he wanted to die with her. This never should have happened. He was supposed to protect her.

"We have a pulse," one of the paramedics announced, pulling Derek's attention back into reality. We have a pulse. It was weak and unstable, but it was there. She was alive. She had a chance. And yet he could still barely find it within himself to breathe.

Derek stayed with her the whole ride to the hospital, trying to find within himself the strength to call someone - anyone - to let them know what happened, but barely being able to breathe a word to Addison, except to tell her to meet him at the ambulance bay. The tone of his voice and the sound of sirens in the background told the redhead to hurry, and she quickly grabbed the arm of his best friend, dragging Mark down with her.

"Derek, what happened?" Addison asked, rushing over as he jumped out of the ambulance only minutes later. Brow creased, her eyes widened as she saw the tiny frame of her youngest bridesmaid being pulled out on a stretcher, oxygen mask firmly attached to her face.

"Oh my god," Mark exhaled, shock washing over him for the girl who had become like family. His gaze flicked between Derek and the stretcher as he and the redhead took off after them.

From outside the window of her room, the three watched as doctors they would normally trust with any other case rushed around Amelia, hooking her up with more tubes and wires than they could count. For everything worse they had seen, nothing hurt as much as this. The world around them seemed to melt away. None of them could find words in that moment, mouths agape as they looked on in piercing silence. Addie's hand rested on her husband's arm but he stepped away. Derek's jaw clenched, swallowing hard, his eyes never leaving his sister, even for a second. Stoic and strong he stood, almost too calm, too together.

Slowly, others began to trickle in, Kathleen and Lizzie, and Nancy with all of her kids since she had no one to care for them so late at night with her husband away. Sam and Naomi dropped in to check up on them, and finally, Carolyn arrived. The mother stood as strong as her son, perfect posture and composure, but tears formed behind her eyes and her lip quivered with every fresh bit of information. Everyone else seemed to tell the story, and Derek didn't bother to fight it. He had no desire to relive that experience - especially not aloud. She sat herself in the waiting room, reaching out for Derek's hand as they sat forward-facing, speaking not a word. What was there to say when Amy might be dead? Nothing could erase that, and neither was willing to try, despite the efforts of the other women.

Hours passed, but the daze that overtook them, burying each in their thoughts. Kids ran around, Addison made awkward small-talk with her in-laws, and Mark pretended not to cry, but mother and son sat in quiet contemplation, barely acknowledging anything until the girl's doctor approached. Derek stood, wrapping his arm around his mom as they listened to the explanation given. But it was one word that finally stuck out: stable. "We finally got her stabilized. She's weak, and she needs rest. We'll have to keep an eye on her, but her condition is stable for now and you should be able to visit with your daughter in the morning," he nodded to Carolyn. She smiled, forcing back her cry as she sat back in her seat.

"Mom, are you-"

"I'm fine, dear," she interrupted. "I'm perfectly fine. Don't worry. Just go home and get some rest." She motioned toward her older daughters. "And you take those kids home to bed. Three A.M. in a hospital waiting room is no place for children. I'm just going to stay here awhile. You go home." She brought her eyes to meet those of her boy, giving him the look he knew so well - the one he knew better than to argue with.

"Call me if you need anything. Have the hospital page. I'll be right here," he offered, ever the dutiful son.

"I will, honey. Now go. And tell Addison to stop hovering. It's weirding me out."

She forced a smile to her lips, and he returned the gesture, turning to leave, marking a steady pace to the parking lot, only voicing himself long enough to ask for the keys so he could drive them home.

"Derek," Addison began, looking over at her husband from the passenger side of her vehicle, "you haven't said a word all night."

"What is there to say? Amy- My sister stole my prescription pad, wrote herself god-knows-how-many scripts, and took so many I found her unconscious on the bathroom floor. I did CPR until the paramedics arrived. She was dead, Addison. She was dead for three minutes. I watched my baby sister die. So what do you want me to say? What is there to say?"

"Derek-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Addison. Leave it alone. She's fine. I'm fine. We're all-" He paused, taking a breath. "Drop it."

His hands gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles began to turn white from the strain. She clicked her tongue, trying to work out a response, but she knew that look. It wasn't one she saw often, but it was enough to convince her to back down just for the night. They could fight about it in the morning, and she was sure they would.

Addie paused in the doorway to hang their coats and put away their shoes, but Derek simply kicked off his garments and wandered off to their bedroom. He pulled on pajamas and locked the door behind him as he entered the master bathroom. A few beats passed, a few breaths, and he fell back against the wall, Inhales turned to gasps as he crumbled to the floor, burying his head in his hands, tears welling in his eyes. Fierce sobs began to overtake, finally succumbing to the overwhelming mixture of fear and bitterness, rage and devastation that had pooled and festered since the moment he found Amelia. It all hit at once, too much to handle and it lasted until he was certain he could take no more, until his body ran out of energy and tears.

How was he supposed to survive this? How was he supposed to forgive her? How was he ever going to look her in the eye without seeing the empty look he had seen tonight? Amelia may have lived, but it felt as if he had lost her. It was a heartbreak beyond anything he had ever imagined before, and it was one he could never experience again.

Forcing himself to his feet, Derek made his way to the sink, sniffing hard and rushing cold water against his face. It's over. It was over. He did his part and now he was done. He pushed away the pain in his chest, constricting, making it hard to breathe, and wandered back out into bed. It's over.