He heard the whimpering and groaned. Derek was exhausted. He'd been in the locker room changing, dreaming of the pizza with the works Addison was phoning in to pick up on the way home. Then his pager had gone off, and a major highway pileup had given him another surgery to do before he could call it a day and crawl into bed.

Sadly, Doc did not know from emergency surgeries. He only knew that he wanted to go outside and go on his walk... now.

"Oh, God. Doc, just... five more minutes."

"Sleep," Addison whispered. Her breath tickled the back of his neck. "I'll take him for a walk."

"It's my turn," came Derek's groggy reply.

"You can owe me. Sleep."

She kissed the back of his neck and rose up off the bed. Derek was sound asleep less than a minute later.

The next thing he knew, the phone was ringing off the hook.

"Addie?"

She didn't answer him, nor did she answer the phone. Derek fumbled with the receiver and finally drew it alongside his head.

"Hello."

"Hello. Is this Ms. Addison Shepherd's residence?"

"Mrs... Mrs. Shepherd," Derek corrected the man's error. "Doctor, actually. We're both doctors."

"You're... Dr. Addison Shepherd's husband?"

Something about the flat, professional tone of the man's voice pushed off Derek's sleepy haze. He sat up and gripped the phone receiver more tightly.

"Yes, she's my wife. Who is this?"

"Dr. Shepherd, my name is Detective Winters with the Seattle Police Department. You're wife's been injured. We'd like you to meet us at the hospital."

His stomach started to burn. "Injured how?"

"Dr. Shepherd, it would be better if you just met us at the hospital."

"Detective, I would like you to tell me what happened to my wife."

The man didn't answer. Derek stood and started reaching for the clothes he'd dropped on the ground early this morning when he'd gotten home.

"Take her to Seattle Grace. You have to take her to Seattle Grace Hospital, do you understand?"

Winters yelled the instruction to the paramedics and then told Derek again that they would speak at the hospital. Done asking for answers he knew the cop wasn't going to give him, the now terrified husband simply pulled on his shirt, grabbed his keys and ran out the door.

*****

Cristina paced the E.R. expectantly. On her way to the locker room, she'd overheard Patricia and Debbie at the nurses' station talking about an incoming trauma. Patricia had then rushed off to page the Chief. Cristina had jumped into her scrubs and a gown, then ducked back out to lurk in the ambulance bay. A good, juicy trauma first thing in the morning--that was exactly the way she liked to start a day.

The sound of a nearing siren told the eager intern her case was on the way in. She was already heading toward the incoming bus as Dr. Bailey raced out the doors to meet it.

"Yang, what are you..."

"I heard the siren, thought I'd see if I could help," Cristina lied.

"You can help, but I need to tell you something first."

The ambulance stopped and the doors flew open. Cristina heard Bailey start to speak again, but she was already turning toward the patient and the paramedics.

A young female paramedic jumped down and began unloading the gurney. "Female, 38. Name's Addison Shepherd--"

The name broke through Cristina's frenzied surgical cravings.

"Oh, my God."

Bailey pushed past her and helped the paramedics bring their patient toward the E.R. Cristina stood mesmerized as she took in the battered and bloody appearance of the redheaded woman.

"Apparent rape attempt, severe head trauma. She's been unconscious and unresponsive since discovery. B.P. is 70/40. Pupils are uneven. Cop said to tell you her husband's on the way."

Cristina snapped to as Bailey began barking orders and only when she heard the resident tell the nurses to page Martin Sanderson--the next best neurosurgeon to Derek Shepherd at SGH--did it really register who this patient was. And then she noticed Bailey slow down the frenzy of the E.R. with a calm, soothing tone as the doctor leaned down close to her unconscious friend.

"We're gonna take care of you, Addison. You just hang on."

*****

Detective Jack Winters had been a cop too long to be shocked by crimes scenes or affected much by the reactions of victim's families. This morning was no different. Yes, it was sad that a woman was just out walking her dog and had ended up bloody and unconscious because some predator had targeted her. Yes, he understood the panic in the voice of the victim's husband. But it didn't change the fact that Jack had a job to do, and that started with getting his victim to the hospital, notifying her family and getting that family to a place where he could conduct an interview as soon as possible.

Telling the male Dr. Shepherd that his wife had been grabbed by a would-be rapist and then beat within an inch of her life was not a smart move right before the man got in a car and drove to Seattle Grace Hospital. So he'd ducked the man's concern and demanding tone and put him off until they were face to face.

He didn't have to wait long.

There was no mistaking who Addison Shepherd's husband was. The man raced through the E.R. doors and toward the treatment area at lightning speed. Jack watched as it took three doctors to keep him from rushing in. One of them, an older black man, spoke quietly but commandingly to the frantic husband. The other two men let go of their hold on him, then the older man led the male Dr. Shepherd toward Jack.

"Detective, I'm Richard Webber, I'm the surgical chief. My assistant told me you were waiting for Derek to get here."

"You're the one who called me?"

The younger man stared at Jack, not really seeing him, his mind still trying to visualize what was happening in the room no one would let him into.

"Yes, Dr. Shepherd, I'm Detective Winters. Would you like to have a seat?"

The man glanced back over his shoulder. Jack put a hand on his arm.

"As soon as they say you can go in, we can stop, but if we could talk now, it would help."

Derek Shepherd nodded and moved to one of the nearby chairs. Jack sat across from him.

"When was the last time you saw your wife?"

"This, uh... this morning. Well, I didn't really see her. She told me to go back to sleep, that she'd walk the dog, and she... she kissed me, but I was half asleep."

"Late night?"

Shepherd's blue eyes locked on him and Jack saw the self-accusation in them.

"I had an emergency. Addison was asleep when I got home, and then... I was just so tired. She said..."

"Do you know what time that was?"

Derek shook his hood. "I never even looked at the clock."

Jack nodded and wrote a line on his notepad. His eyes came back up as the male doctor's voice very calmly and pointedly repeated his question from earlier that morning.

"Detective... what happened to my wife?"

As he had promised, Jack now gave his answer.

"From what we can gather from the crime scene," Winters began, "your wife was walking and she was grabbed from behind. She fought back... she fought hard. And what we think happened is that she hurt her attacker and he snapped and... and that's when he beat her."

"What does that mean?" Shepherd asked. "What does 'he beat her' mean?"

Jack cleared his throat. He was all business and he liked to keep control. That didn't mean he enjoyed giving a man details about how his wife had been brutalized by some animal.

"She was hit... several times... in the face and head."

"Did he... was she..."

The question didn't need to be finished for Jack to know what he was being asked.

"There were no signs she was sexually assaulted. The witness who called it in had been walking further up on the trail, and he heard your wife scream and started running over. Probably scared the attacker away."

"Chief."

A woman's voice rang out and Jack, Derek and the very silent and grieved Dr. Webber all turned toward it. A short black woman stood in the doorway to where the doctors were working on Addison Shepherd.

Derek Shepherd didn't ask if it was okay for him to go, he just got up and ran toward the woman, Webber on his heels.

*****

He wasn't sure how he was running because his whole body felt numb. But somehow Derek made it to Bailey and the doorway that was still blocked to him by her indomitable presence.

"How is she?"

The chief asked the question before he could.

"Dr. Sanderson thinks it's a severe concussion. She's still unconscious. We're heading up to do a CT."

Derek waited. He saw the look between Bailey and the chief. Neither one said anything.

"What's the 'but'?"

The door opened and Martin Sanderson walked out of the room with Addison's x-rays in his hand. Derek strained to look inside, but his colleague quickly pulled the door closed.

"Martin, what the hell is everyone so afraid to tell me?"

"We should let them get Addison upstairs, then we can--"

"Tell me what the hell is wrong with my wife!"

Derek's eyes passed from one doctor to the other as he yelled at them all. Finally, Bailey stepped forward and took him a few steps from the door.

"The blows to the head were... very hard. There is trauma to the left side of her face. And when you go in there, you need to remember that we are going to take very good care of her and we are going to fix this."

Bailey never overreacted or expressed too much concern, and the very serious and controlled nature of how she spoke to him told Derek that this wasn't just some bruising or torn skin. He nodded and then moved back to the door that separated him from his wife. This time no one tried to stop him from walking in.

The first thing he thought of when he saw her was the first time he had seen her. She'd been laughing at a joke someone had told her, and Derek had been quite certain that the redhead sitting two tables away from him at the all-night coffee shop was the most beautiful woman he would ever see in his life.

The bruising and swelling was ugly--violently discolored, indicative of major damage. Derek sucked in his breath as he forced himself to look at it. He knew bones were broken beneath the battered skin. He knew she must have been in terrible pain before she had finally passed out.

It took him two minutes to realize the sobbing he was hearing was coming from his own body. Derek had moved closer and taken Addison's hand and now he was on his knees, his head pressed against the gurney, tears running down his face. She must have been so scared, he thought.

"God, Addison, how could someone do this to you?"

He said it aloud knowing there was no answer a rational mind could understand.

"Derek."

Richard's voice reached his ears a moment before Derek felt his friend's hand touch down on his shoulder.

"We need to get her upstairs. Craniofacial can't put together a treatment plan until we get the CT done."

Derek nodded and stood up, letting go of her hand. Bailey and Yang came in and eased Addison from the room.

"I'll page you as soon as we're done," Sanderson called back in from the hallway.

"Leave the x-rays," Derek replied, his voice strained though he was fighting to sound more like a doctor and less like a terrified husband.

Sanderson silently placed the folder of x-rays on the treatment room table and left. A moment later, Richard followed. Alone, Derek took the x-rays out and put them up on the illuminator.

There were four broken bones on the left side of Addison's face, the zygomatic bone the most dramatically. He stared at the x-rays for nearly half an hour, memorizing them until he could describe them in detail to anyone who asked. Then Derek turned off the lighted panel and walked out of the room, out of the E.R. doors and into the fresh air outside, his cell phone in his hand.

*****

Nothing ruined a good workout like a ringing phone, but it was a professional hazard that couldn't be avoided. Mark glanced down at his treadmill's readout, frustrated to have only gotten in three miles before he was interrupted. Still, he halted his run and reached for his phone.

"Sloan."

The phone line buzzed, indicating it was still open, but there was no other sound.

"Hello?"

He waited a few beats and was about to hang up when someone finally spoke.

"It's me."

Mark froze.

"Derek?"

More silence. Mark waited. He'd never expected to hear that voice over his telephone ever again.

"I need you to... come to Seattle."

More silence as Mark wondered what on Earth could make his former best friend place this particular call.

"Addison needs you to come to Seattle... right away. She... she needs the best."

Mark's hand wound around the phone so tightly, he nearly smashed it. He'd get the details later. All he needed to know was that Addison was hurt... hurt so badly that Derek Shepherd had called the man who had tried to steal his wife.

"I'm on my way."

*****

Meredith sipped at her cup of coffee and prayed the caffeine would kick in soon. She'd been up half the night talking to Izzie, trying to get past the "you hurt George" roadblock the blonde had put in the middle of their friendship and finally, it seemed, they were making some progress. Her roommate looked just as tired, and Mer knew she had gotten up early to come in and check on Denny even after getting only a few hours of sleep.

"Can we just put coffee in an I.V.? That won't kill me, will it?"

Izzie laughed, though the sound was partially cut off by a yawn. "Sign me up, dude, even if it does kill me."

The door opened and George strolled in. He looked happy, which was a welcome change from the way things had been lately. Meredith smiled at him and, much to her surprise, while he didn't smile back, he didn't look away or pretend that he hadn't seen her either. He gave her a slight nod and went about getting ready for work.

The morning seemed off to a normal, everyday start. Then Alex burst in through the door.

"Did you guys hear?"

"Hear what?" Meredith asked, since neither George nor Izzie were speaking to Alex following his return to "Evil Alex" form after his breakup with Izzie.

"Montgomery-Shepherd got, like, mugged or something this morning. She got beat up pretty bad."

Meredith looked at him a moment, sure she had heard him wrong. "Who told you that?"

"I just saw them take her up for a CT, only I didn't know it was her 'cause her face is... it's pretty messed up. I asked Olivia, and she told me. Anyway, Bailey's on the case, so we're supposed to wait in the E.R. for her, I guess."

Meredith looked at Izzie, who looked as equally disbelieving as Mer felt. Both women stood up and hurried past Alex and toward the E.R. The moment they arrived, the dark cloud of having one of their own in harm's way was evident. Nurses looked nervous, doctors were gathered around waiting for information and a depressive weight hung in the air.

"This is not good," Izzie said.

"No, it's not."

Meredith made her way further into the unit, looking around for the one person she had yet to even catch a glimpse of. She found him inside one of the treatment rooms, his body tense, arms crossed in front of him, as he stared at a set of x-rays.

"I... I just heard."

Derek glanced at her briefly, then his eyes returned to their intense study of the films on the board.

"She's going to be fine."

His voice was flat, disconnected. He was trying to be a doctor now, not a husband. Meredith could tell he was barely holding it together.

"I'm sure she will be," she replied, not sure what else to say. When he did nothing to break the silence that followed, Meredith moved further into the room and looked at the x-rays. She felt sick as she looked at the broken facial bones.

"It was my turn."

Meredith looked over at Derek. His eyes had dropped to the floor.

"What?"

"It was my turn to walk Doc. I should've gotten up, but Addie let me sleep."

She lifted her hand and put it on his arm. His eyes shot toward her hand. He didn't pull away, but he didn't seem comforted by the gesture either.

"This isn't your fault, Derek. She... I can't imagine Addison would want you to think it was."

"No," he answered, his eyes keying in on something on one of the x-rays. "No, she wouldn't."

He pulled the x-ray free and then turned toward her, really seeing her there for the first time in the conversation.

"I need to go talk to Richard."

Meredith nodded. "Okay. You'll let me know if you need anything? If I can help at all..."

He nodded absently and started to walk away before he seemed to remember something that brought his attention momentarily to her.

"The dog. He's, um... the police took him and someone needs to..."

"I'll go get him," Meredith said. "If there's any problem, I'll have someone call you. He can stay with me till you guys get home."

"Okay, thanks."

Meredith watched him go, helpless to say or do anything to console him or herself. She merely stood silently and whispered a prayer for a woman she had more than once cursed for simply existing. She hoped someone would listen. Because she honestly wasn't sure how Derek was going to handle it if things didn't work out exactly the way he needed them to. She knew that made her plea more for him than for Addison, but somehow, she didn't think anyone would care so long as the outcome was positive.

"Hey," Cristina said as she came through the doorway. "Do you know where Shepherd went? Dr. Bailey sent me to find him."

"He said he had to talk to the chief. You're on Addison's case?"

"I, uh... I heard there was a trauma and jumped it. I didn't know..."

Meredith nodded. "It's not as bad as it looks, right?"

Cristina glanced toward the x-rays Derek had left on the light box.

"It's as bad as it looks."

Her friend's eyes met hers and Meredith sighed.

"Keep me posted, okay?"

Cristina nodded and left the room in search of the man she'd been sent to find.

*****

"I think waiting is a mistake."

Derek shifted his eyes away from Richard and over to Dan Wessley, the craniofacial attending.

"I respect your opinion, Dan, but she's my wife. It's my decision, and I have to do what I think is best for her... what I think Addison would want."

Sanderson chimed in at that point, drawing Derek's attention his way.

"Well, from a neurological standpoint, Derek, I can't argue. Thankfully the concussion is the worst of it in that area. And if you're this confident, then I think you have to follow your gut."

All three doctors turned to their chief. Richard stared hard at Derek for a long moment, then he stood.

"It's Dr. Shepherd's call. We'll wait."

Sanderson and Wessley left the room after offering their good thoughts. Derek thanked them, then moved so he was looking out at the view of the city the conference room windows afforded.

"Derek."

Richard came to stand beside him.

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes, I'm sure. If she was awake right now and not scared I'd flip out at the very idea of it, it's what she'd want. He's who she'd trust."

"Even after everything that's happened?"

Derek chuckled softly and looked over at Richard. "Just because I hate him doesn't mean he's not still a brilliant doctor."

His mentor nodded.

"All right. Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"I need Bailey on Mark's team. I know this is the right thing to do. That doesn't mean I'm fooling myself about it being easy. Bailey will keep us both in line."

Richard smiled despite his heavy heart. "That is one thing we can be absolutely certain of."

*****

Meredith studied the chart in front of her and double-checked that all the notes Dr. Burke had ordered were indicated for Jerry Houston, 42, car accident victim with chest trauma and internal bleeding. Luckily for Mr. Houston, his surgery had been a success and he would recover.

She and the other interns had seen the day turn into its usual hectic blur of patients and cases, though without the regular dose of Dr. Bailey they were used to. Their resident had split her time between Addison and her interns, but the chief had made it clear that her priority was the attending surgeon turned patient.

When she heard one of the nurses say, "Who is that?" Meredith glanced up and over to see who they were talking about. She nearly dropped the chart from her hands as she saw the object of their scrutiny.

"Meredith, where is she?"

Mark Sloan walked up to her as if they were old friends and not just spurned ex-lovers who had shared a drink over their mutual Shepherd-related heartbreak.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice filled with urgency. "This is really not a good time for you to be here."

"He called me, Meredith."

Her mouth fell open. "Derek called... he called you?"

Suddenly she noticed the anxiety and strain on Mark's handsome face. Worry rested there that could only come from him knowing exactly what was going on at SGH.

"You don't let just anyone cut open your wife's face and put it back together, even if the guy you gotta call is a bastard you hate. Now, please, where is she?"

"I.C.U.," she replied. "She has a concussion and she still hasn't regained consciousness. I'll take you. Come on."

Mark followed her to the elevator and they stepped inside. She pushed the button to take them to the I.C.U. and then leaned back against the wall, her eyes darting toward him.

"He really called you?"

"He really did."

"Did you come for him or for her?"

The plastic surgeon's intense stare fell on her.

"They were the two most important people in my life. That doesn't end because I screwed it all up."

Meredith nodded. She understood.

The bell dinged and the doors opened and Meredith led Mark toward the intensive care unit. Dr. Bailey was just coming out of Addison's room as they approached. The resident offered the chart she was holding out to the newly arrived surgeon.

"Dr. Sloan, we've been waiting for you."

Mark nodded and took the chart. He tried hard not to react as he read its contents, but Meredith noticed a small flinch.

"Dr. Bailey, I could use some help putting a good team together," he said, his eyes rising to meet hers.

"I'll take care of it. Let me know when you want to schedule the surgery."

"I'll have someone page you as soon as I examine her."

Bailey nodded and motioned to Meredith that she should exit with her. Meredith caught the gesture and walked ahead toward the elevators, but she stopped when she heard the resident's voice one more time.

"Everyone's a big old open wound right now, Dr. Sloan, and the last thing Addison needs is to wake up hearing you and Derek at each other's throats. Remember why you're here."

Meredith saw Mark take the warning in and was half expecting him to come back at Bailey, but instead he nodded and headed into the room.

"You really think you should leave the two of them alone in there?"

Bailey glanced at the doorway one last time then looked at Meredith.

"They're not alone, and I suspect that for the first time in a long damn time, they're on the same side."

*****

One of the many reasons Mark Sloan had been attracted to Addison Shepherd was her beauty. Legs that went on forever, an incredible body and that face... dear God, that face. Beauty defined.

One of the many reasons Mark Sloan had fallen in love with Addison Shepherd was the realization that the beauty came from who she was. It had surprised him for some reason, that a woman who looked like that could be so damn... wonderful. But she was.

He felt his eyes burn as he looked at her now where she lay still in a hospital bed. If the man who had done this was ever near him, Mark didn't doubt he would snap the bastard's neck without a second thought.

Forcing his eyes away from Addison, Mark found Derek staring up at him from the chair beside her bed.

"I rechecked all the neurological tests. There's no reason for her not to have woken up. She just... hasn't."

"Her body's dealing with the trauma." Mark stepped closer. "You know that's all it is."

They both remained silent as Mark sat Addison's chart down on the table beside her bed.

"I, uh, I need to examine her, Derek."

He watched as his former best friend stood up from the chair. Derek took a long look at Addison before finally lifting his gaze.

"Bailey will get you anything you need, anyone you need."

"I already asked her to put a team together."

Derek nodded. "Okay, then. I'll... get her films for you."

In another lifetime, Mark would have found something supportive to say to try to take away some of the obvious guilt and worry plaguing Derek. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. A part of him was glad to see Derek hurting because all he could think, all he had been thinking since he'd called in from the plane and gotten an update from Dr. Webber on what had happened was 'where the hell were you, Derek? Where the hell were you when she needed you?'

It wasn't fair. He knew it wasn't. He just didn't care. Except that he did. Which was why he choked the accusation down now instead of hurling it.

The door closed and Mark took a deep breath and leaned down close to the woman he still loved more than any person he had ever known. He wanted desperately to touch her the way Mark touched Addison and not the way Dr. Sloan should touch his patient. He wanted to put his hand against her uninjured cheek and reassure her with his touch. But he could feel the eyes of the I.C.U. staff watching him over the monitors, waiting, no doubt, for gossip about Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd's ex-lover. So he settled for whispering the first words he could think to say.

"You just rest, sweetheart. I'm gonna fix this. I promise."

With purpose, Mark reached for the temporary dressing on her face and began to peel it back so he could see the damage firsthand. He had barely started when Addison drew in a sharp breath and began a weak struggle to get away from him. When he saw that her right eye remained closed, he realized she was still asleep and that most likely she was reliving her attack.

"Addison, it's okay. You're safe now."

She kept moving and when she turned her head away from him, Mark felt his concern deepen. If she fought too hard, she might make her injuries worse, and he had to find a way to calm her down. He was about to call for help when the door opened and Derek came rushing back in. He paused only a second before running to the bed and sitting down beside Addison, his hands taking hold of both of hers forcefully even though she continued to try to pull away.

"Addie, it's Derek. Listen to me, sweetheart, you're okay. You're okay."

He repeated the same words again and Mark noticed Addison pause in her fight to get away from whatever was happening in her mind.

"That's it, babe. You're okay now. You're here with me at the hospital, and you're safe. You're okay, Addie."

Her breathing began to slow and Derek released one of her hands then lifted his now free one up so that he could smooth back the hair from the right side of Addison's face.

"You're okay. It's okay now, babe."

"Derek."

Her voice sounded completely foreign to Mark--raspy, tired, weak--and it was hard for her to open her mouth because of the swelling around it. But he'd never been so happy to hear anything in his life, and he imagined Derek was right there with him.

"I'm right here, Addie. You gonna wake up for me now?"

Her right eye flickered open and closed then open again. She searched around, no doubt thrown off by the fact that she couldn't see from both eyes. After a moment, she looked at Derek, but even as she did, her left hand rose up to try to touch the hurt side of her face. Mark stepped forward and stopped her, taking hold of her hand. She looked over at him a moment, then back at Derek as her confusion and her fear grew.

"What... did he... do to me?"

She tried again to reach for her face. Again, Mark and Derek held her hands and wouldn't let her.

"There's nothing wrong I can't fix, Addison."

Mark echoed the calming tone Derek had used earlier. She looked over at him and then, again, looked back at her husband. Derek lifted his hand and gently touched Addison's right cheek just the way Mark had wished to earlier. He had never been more envious of someone's freedom to do something so simple in his entire life.

*****

Miranda Bailey was not easily impressed, especially considering the quality of the surgeons she worked with. Between Webber, Burke and the Shepherds, SGH was in a class of its own when it came to talent in the O.R. So it really took something to get her to take notice and give someone credit as belonging in their elite club.

Mark Sloan belonged there.

As she listened to him explain to her, Yang, Karev and the rest of the surgical team what was going to happen during surgery, his expertise was obvious. This was not some "make people pretty for the sake of doing it" plastic surgeon. He was the man you went to when your life got torn apart and you wanted it put back together.

She knew now why Derek Shepherd had made what was, no doubt, the hardest phone call of his life.

Sloan dismissed the team and they all went to prepare for surgery. There were two small, very slow bleeds in Addison's injuries and waiting for him to get there had left the bleeding going on long enough. It was time to get in there and do what they needed to do.

Miranda centered herself and thought about the plan the surgeon had laid out for her rather than about the reality of what she was about to do. Operating on your friends was a hazard of being a surgeon. She'd worked on her own interns, been treated by Addison herself--it was just the way things played out. And she knew that she would rather deal with the emotional turmoil of being one of Addison's surgeons than be left powerless up in the gallery.

When she was ready, the resident headed to the scrub room. Dr. Sloan was already there.

"Can I ask you a question, Dr. Bailey?"

Miranda nodded as she tied on her scrub cap.

"Is she happy here?"

"She's the star of the hospital thanks to the chief's P.R. campaign, she loves her husband and she made friends with me. She's working on happy."

Sloan chuckled.

"You pretty much run this place, don't you?"

Bailey nodded. "Pretty much."

She dried her hands as the tall man beside her continued to scrub his under the water.

"You know I asked her to go home with me."

"I know," Miranda confirmed. "I also know she went home to her husband instead. And if you love her as much as she says you do, you'll leave her be and let her do what she needs to do."

He said nothing in response, didn't even nod. But Bailey had a feeling he'd heard her. Deciding that was as far into Addison's personal life as she wanted to tread just now, Bailey walked away and backed into the O.R.

*****

"You're sure this is okay?"

Derek looked up at the sound of O'Malley's lowered voice. He was with Izzie Stevens and the duo was headed into the gallery above Addison's O.R.

"The chief said Dr. Shepherd said that 'her interns' could watch. We're her interns, right?"

Both of the young doctors stopped when they saw Derek there. He smiled weakly.

"It's okay. She... it's an important surgery for you guys. She's trusting that you can handle it."

O'Malley started to say something, but then stopped himself. Stevens ushered her fellow intern toward the door and they disappeared into the room.

Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The quiet was getting to him, letting him think too much. And his mind kept going back to the Bookers--the patient and spouse who had given him a glimpse into his own marriage. When had he become that man, the one who stopped noticing his wife? He felt truly ashamed that it had really taken her being hurt for him to stop and think about what it would mean to him if Addison were gone from his life.

He'd touched on it once when she had forced his hand. The day Addison had handed him those divorce papers and given him the out he was so sure he wanted, he'd froze. It was one thing to run away from his marriage and pretend it was gone, but for it to really be over, for him to close the door? He hadn't been ready. He hadn't even been close. And he hadn't known it until he was two signatures away from losing it and her forever.

"Hey."

He was staring right at the gallery door, but it wasn't until Meredith spoke that Derek actually saw her standing in front of it.

"Hey."

She came across the hallway and leaned against the wall beside him.

"Doc's at my house. His license is still in my name, so..."

"Oh, okay. Good, thank you."

Meredith nodded. He stared at the door and then looked at her again.

"Are you going in?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I'm still not sure. There's something... very odd about the idea of me watching someone operate on your wife."

He nodded.

"You're... you're not going in, are you?"

She was worried about him. Derek smiled and glanced at her.

"I'm not sure either. I feel like I should be there if she needs me. But I'm not sure how I'm going to feel about seeing Mark in there with her, or how he'll feel if he looks up and sees me. Not sure any of us needs to find out."

"I could ask Izzie to come and tell us how things are going. We'll wait out here and if she does need you, you'll only be a few steps away."

Derek thought about it for a moment and suddenly knew that Addison would want him watching her surgery about as much as she'd want to be awake for it. There were some things you just didn't want to see yourself or want your loved ones to see.

"That sounds like a good idea," he finally said. Meredith smiled.

"Okay, then."

She started to move toward the gallery. Derek had no idea what made the words jump out of his mouth or why he chose that moment to say them.

"I can't remember the last time I told her she was beautiful."

Meredith stopped and looked at him.

"I mean, maybe that's not so strange. I suppose lots of husbands couldn't tell you the last time they said that to their wives. It's just... today there's a chance she might not be beautiful anymore, and I can't remember the last time I told her she was. And I just... hate that."

Her face told him volumes about how uncomfortable she was and about how clueless she was as to what to say in response to him. Derek laughed at himself.

"I'm sorry. I don't... I don't know why I said that to you."

To his surprise, rather than rush off into the gallery, Meredith stood her ground.

"Would it matter to you if she wasn't? Beautiful, anymore, I mean. If Mark couldn't fix all the damage, would that change how you looked at her?"

"I... I don't know. I hope not. I think it wouldn't. But it would change how she saw herself. And that would be... it would be hard to see that."

Meredith nodded.

"You should ask her."

He looked at her with raised brows. "Ask her what?"

"When was the last time you told her she was beautiful. I bet she remembers."

She turned then and headed into the gallery to talk to Stevens. Derek leaned his head against the wall and thought momentarily about the absurdity of his ex-girlfriend giving him advice on how to talk to his wife.

Then the door opened and Meredith stepped out and Richard told him they were starting and all thoughts of anything but Addison getting well disappeared.

*****

Mark lay back on the locker room bench, trying to stretch out his back. The surgery had gone well... very well. And he had never been more relieved to walk out of an O.R in his life.

He didn't doubt that for years to come he'd have nightmares about drawing a scalpel through her face. Only the satisfaction of knowing he would be the one to restore her had kept him going. Derek had always said that Mark's ego was his biggest asset. And it seemed that his former friend was dead on in that assessment.

When the door opened, Mark shifted and sat up, expecting Karev, who wanted to go have a drink at Joe's and, no doubt, pick his brain about plastics. Instead he looked up and saw Derek staring at him from just inside the entryway.

"I feel like I'm supposed to say something now. Thank you seems... pretty lame. And I'm not sure what else to say."

Mark stood and pulled off the top half of his scrubs. "You don't have to say anything. I came because I couldn't not come."

Derek nodded. He stood there for another minute trying to think of what else he should do and then finally he started to leave.

"It took this for you to see, didn't it? For you to get how much you'd lose if you lost her?"

The other man's eyes dropped, and Mark knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

"Don't forget this time, Derek. Because if you... if you make her feel invisible again, I swear to God, I will come back here and I will kick your ass."

He wanted a drink. He wanted to sit on a bar stool and drink and do something to numb the pain in his gut at realizing he was going to be leaving Seattle alone again. But the alcoholic balm would have to wait because Derek had found a question to ask.

"It wasn't about me, was it? I thought... it might be. For awhile I thought that. But it wasn't competition or just trying to take something that was mine. You... you love Addie."

Mark winced at the name. He'd never liked it. He'd always preferred Addison.

"Yeah," he said, looking at Derek straight on. "Yeah, I love her. But she loves you. So just... remember. All she wants is you. Be there for her."

Derek nodded and left the room. Mark tore off his scrubs and moved to the pounding hot water of the shower. Then he dressed and headed out himself after leaving a message for young Dr. Karev that he would see him at the bar.

There was one thing left he had to do before he dove into a bottle of scotch tonight.

She was awake when he walked in. Miranda Bailey was sitting at her bedside.

"Can I have a minute, Dr. Bailey?"

The resident nodded and excused herself to get some coffee. Mark walked to the right side of Addison's bed and sat down on it.

"You are very lucky to know me. Because I'm just that awesome. And you... are going to be as beautiful as ever."

Her hand reached out and he sighed at the feeling of her fingers slipping between his.

"Thank... you."

"Shh. No talking. Doctor's orders."

He knew she'd smile at that if she could.

"I owe you an apology, Addison."

Her right eyebrow raised.

"He still loves you. I might think he's a dumb bastard who doesn't deserve you, but he still loves you."

She stared at him a moment before trying to form a question. "How..."

"How do I know?" he said, finishing the query for her. "I know because... [i]I'm[/i] here."

Mark stood with her hand still entwined in his. He drew her palm to his mouth and placed a kiss there. He couldn't bring himself to really say good-bye to her, so he simply placed her hand down on the bed and then walked away.

Two bottles of scotch sounded damn good right about then.

*****

The truth of the matter was, a week after her surgery, Addison could have been discharged. But Derek hadn't been ready for that. He had gone home to get some of her things and felt the remoteness of the trailer and the thought of her alone there--her attacker still out there somewhere--while he was at work... it had sent a chill through his entire body. As soon as he'd gotten back to the hospital, Derek had found Richard and discussed the benefits of Addison staying at the hospital... she'd be closer to her patients, which she'd love, the interns would still be able to call on her for instruction and the surgeons covering her patients would be able to run in for a consult if a case started to get beyond their expertise.

Because she was still shaky and didn't really want to be away from her friends and the safety net of the hospital, it hadn't taken much of a sales pitch to convince Addison. Derek had sent Richard in just in case Addie felt like she was being handled. He'd been relieved to see she was as on board with the idea as he was.

So for three weeks, the doctors Shepherd basically lived at Seattle Grace. Derek maintained his surgical schedule, Addison began to recover and kept tabs on her patients and at night, Derek made his way to his wife's hospital room and crawled into bed with her and fell asleep.

The odd living arrangement filled their days up with busy and with distractions, and so Derek and Addison found it easy to let the things they'd meant to say to each other right after the attack go unsaid just a little bit longer. During the day, things felt... normal.

But at night, when they held each other in the tight quarters of the hospital bed, Derek would sometimes feel Addison shaking against him as the quiet let her fear and the bad memories seep in. And a few times, Addison had whispered reassurances to her husband when he'd woken from his own fitful sleep in a panic, reaching for her as if he could still find a way to stop her from being hurt in the first place.

They were raw to each other in the darkness--exposed, able to be scared and broken and guilty and remorseful and gentle and loving and forgiving. But they were still afraid to be those things in the light of day.

The morning of the Friday of the third week in Addison's recovery, Derek headed for her room on his lunch break. When he found it empty, he plopped down in the bedside chair and nibbled on some grapes while he waited for his wife to return. He yawned, exhaustion pulling at him. Last night had been one of "those" nights. Derek had jerked awake, hardly able to breathe but somehow managing to gasp Addison's name. Her arms had been around him an instant later as she tried to reassure him that she was okay.

"I can't believe they both got up to four pounds."

Izzie Stevens' voice reached him as she steered Addison's mandatory hospital wheelchair through the doorway.

"Well, you took very good care of Mrs. Rothman, so I'm not surprised at all. You've learned a lot about keeping the patients calm and hopeful, which is not always easy while they're on bed rest. At that point, honestly, sometimes all we can do is just say the right thing to help them get through another day, and you're really getting a grip on that."

Derek watched as his wife's compliment clearly gave a little extra bounce to the intern. Another thing he hadn't noticed about her since she'd come to Seattle... Addison loved her role as teacher. During these weeks when he'd watched her so closely, the joy of passing on the knowledge she had worked so hard for was obvious, even if it had caused her some sleepless nights as she'd worried over the young doctors under her charge.

"Ah, the Rothman twins were delivered?"

His voice drew both sets of eyes toward him and Addison stood up from the wheelchair and made her way back to bed. Derek moved to help her as Izzie filled him in.

"C-section this morning. Martin Charles and Adam Henry--both with fully functioning lungs."

Derek noticed that Addison was still holding firm to his hand even after she was settled in bed. He sat back down in the chair, but did nothing to break the physical connection between them.

"Stevens, would you tell Mrs. Rothman I'll come by later today?"

"Sure thing. See you later."

Izzie left the room and Addison turned toward him. She smiled. He smiled back. Then she tugged on his hand.

"Come here."

Derek pulled himself up and moved to sit on the bed so he was facing her, his fingers still entwined with Addison's.

"You need to get some sleep," she said, her other hand brushing against the light stubble on his cheek.

"I need to check on a few patients, then maybe I can grab a nap."

Addison sat up taller in bed and drew Derek's hand into her lap so that it was now held between both of her palms.

"You need to be able to sleep again, period, Derek. You need to let this go."

An old defensive instinct willed him to try to pull away or put up the protective shield he had used so often during the difficult days of their marriage. Derek fought the impulse with everything he had. He went for honest instead.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about this, Addie."

She smiled at him. "I know. But I need to say this to you."

He nodded, his eyes lowered.

"This didn't happen because of you. So please stop blaming yourself. It just... happened. And it was awful. But I'm going to be okay. I'm going to be okay because of you."

His eyes lifted. "Me?"

"You took care of me when I needed you most, Derek. I know that. I need you to know it, too."

"All I did was... was make a phone call."

"You put me first." There was such a sense of warmth and appreciation in her voice that Derek couldn't help but bring his gaze up to meet hers. "We both know how hard that call was for you to make... but you made it for me. And I just... I just wanted you to know that when I think about you in all this, that's what I think about."

He still felt guilty. He couldn't help it. Human nature and all that. But Derek couldn't deny that it took an enormous weight off his heart to hear Addison say she didn't blame him for her attack. And it meant more than he would probably ever be able to tell her that she understood that he had only been able to make that call because it had been for her.

"What about you?" he asked, figuring that now that the first layer of bandage had been removed, he might as well go for two. "I know sometimes you probably have nightmares that don't wake me up."

This time her eyes dropped, her long hair falling forward so that it hid her face from him. Derek took control of their handhold, both his hands now covering her smaller one.

"Come on, Miss I Want To Talk. Talk to me."

"Sometimes it's okay," she said, her face still hidden from view. "Sometimes... I remember thinking that I would never see you again, and..."

Moving gently, Derek let his right hand rise up to lift her chin so that he could see her eyes. Tears glistened, threatening to spill over the rim.

"It's kind of amazing we ever thought that's what we wanted, isn't it? To never see each other again. What fools we were."

Addison nodded, a few drops of moisture managing to spring free and dampen her cheek. He watched as she carefully wiped them off the still very tender left side of her face. When he realized that he was thinking to himself how absolutely beautiful she was to him in that moment, with all her defenses down, Derek was drawn back to his thoughts of the day of her attack.

"Do you remember the last time I... I told you that you were beautiful?"

The smile that spread over her features was the one he always remembered as the first he'd seen, the one that came when she was thinking about something that made her truly joyful and that she couldn't control at all.

"Yeah, I do."

"I was, uh, I was trying to remember," he explained, "but I couldn't."

"Halloween... the Halloween before you left. We went down to Peds to carve pumpkins with the kids. We had been there, I don't know, half an hour, and I was covered in pumpkin gook. You called my name and I turned to look at you and you just started laughing."

Addison was caught up in the memory. Derek let himself share it with her, an image coming together in his mind as she recalled the details.

"I had pumpkin in my hair, on my face, on my clothes... it was ridiculous. And you leaned over and you kissed my cheek and you said I tasted like Halloween. I laughed. And then you... you just looked at me and you said, 'God, you're beautiful.'"

Derek waited as Addie paused. The memory suddenly seemed to be turning bittersweet for her, and he was tempted to change the subject, but he waited to see why her smile had dropped.

"We were already in trouble," she said. "I mean, I didn't realize how bad things would get, but... I remember thinking it had been so long since you had looked at me and really seen me. But that day you did. And for that one afternoon, things felt... right."

For the first time since Addison had come back into the room, Derek broke contact with her, but only so he could move closer, erasing the distance between them.

"It wasn't you, Addie. You know that, don't you?"

This time nothing could stop her tears. She let them fall as she shook her head.

"I could never figure out what I had done to make you not want me anymore. I mean, before..."

"Babe, no."

Derek took both her hands now, holding them tightly.

"Something in me changed. And to be honest, I'm still not sure what it was. I'm not even sure that what changed is gonna stay changed. But it scared the hell out of me and I just... I should've told you. I know I should've. I just didn't know what to say."

"I wish you had. God, Derek, I wish so much that we had both done things differently."

He did, too. But they couldn't change anything either of them had done before. All they could do was be different now. Better. Honest. And talking about the hard stuff, even when it hurt, was better and honest and different.

Addison pulled a hand free from him and wiped away her tears again. Then she looked at him, a slight smile on her face.

"So... just for the record..."

"Yes, ma'am."

"If you feel any more changes coming on or changing back or whatever... you remember that the only two things in my life I'd like to never change are my being a doctor and my being your wife. I've learned a lot about what I can do without the past few years, about what I can handle. [i]I've learned to live in a trailer.[/i] So... I can deal with whatever else comes up."

The way she dropped the word "trailer" made him laugh. She laughed, too. And Derek leaned forward and kissed her.

"Someday you're going to admit you love that trailer."

"Yeah, sure, I am," she said as she chuckled. Then her hand rose to his cheek. "Can we just settle for me finding the owner of said trailer utterly sexy and fabulous and brilliant and... did I mention sexy?"

Derek smiled. "Have I told you that you're beautiful when you're fighting your love for the trailer?"

He moved to kiss her, pausing only to let his eyes really take in the areas of her face that were still in the process of recovery. There was still some bruising, still some swelling. There were faint lines that, though they would fade, might never disappear completely. But she was healing.

Derek finished his small journey and placed his lips against his wife's. She pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around him.

They were healing.

Commentary?

Contact the author