When he'd been younger and had something important to work out--more accurately, at times when he'd been smart enough to acknowledge he needed to work something out--Derek Shepherd had learned to write it down. That helped him connect the dots, find the link between thought "a" and thought "q" so he understood what got him there.

After his fight with Meredith and before he'd left the hospital, Derek had made his way back toward Addison's room. From the hall, he peeked inside and saw that she was sleeping, Adele and Richard keeping close watch over her. He also knew, thanks to Meredith, that Stevens was on tap to stay overnight. Reassured that Addie was in capable hands, he headed for the Range Rover and the long ride home. He arrived to find his favorite running shoes in shreds. Apparently Doc had sensed the stresses of the day and decided to exact retribution once again on Derek's possessions.

"Let's go get some air, boy. I think we could both use it."

The dog trailed at his heels, but Doc wasn't much for running and playing, which suited Derek's mood just fine. The two walked around the lake and then went back to the trailer. Once inside, Derek made himself a cup of tea, changed into sweats and a t-shirt, and then he climbed into bed with a notepad and pen. Doc snuggled up beside him.

At the top of the page, Derek wrote, "I am the father of Addison's baby." His intention was to write more below it, but his mind kept drifting back to the line, to the way the letters looked as his eyes scanned them over and over again. And every time he read the sentence, silently or aloud, he smiled.

The fear and bewilderment associated with the idea wasn't going anywhere fast, but Derek sat there and alternated between re-reading the words and mulling over the images they conjured up--a little redhead in a white dress teetering on unsteady legs as her green eyes sparkled, a dark haired little boy struggling to catch bubbles in the air before they disappeared. As the hours passed, he realized that the answer to the question might have been obscured by his confused emotions, but it had shone itself clearly when he'd finally given his mind the freedom to look at it from every angle.

No, he was not the kind of man who could walk away from his child.

Just after seven a.m. Pacific time, Derek dialed a New York number and waited for a familiar voice to answer.

"Shepherds."

"Mom, it's me."

"Oh, good morning, Honey." In the brief silence that followed her greeting, Derek could see Patricia Shepherd looking at the clock, her hand going to her hip as she calculated the time backwards. "Sweetheart, it's so early there. What are you doing up?"

"I wanted to... to tell you something... about Addison."

He knew his mother well, and he imagined her hopeful expression as she prayed what she was about to hear was that the divorce was off and Addison was coming home. His mother had never stopped loving her "daughter," and she had more than once told Derek that if things didn't work out, he should still expect to see Addison at special family gatherings because she was never not going to be a Shepherd.

"You're, uh... you're going to be a grandma, Mom. Addie is, uh... she's pregnant."

"Preg--Derek, I thought you and Addison... well, she moved out quite a while ago, didn't she?"

He sighed and tried not to think about the look on Addison's face that last night here in the trailer. "She was pregnant when we split up, Mom. I, uh, I didn't know until yesterday. Addison had a scare at work--but she's fine, okay? I don't want you to worry. But... that's when I found out."

A soft sound that might have been a sob came over the phone, and then Patricia Shepherd cleared her throat. That particular noise had the same effect on Derek as it had for his entire life. He sat up straighter and prepared to get a scolding.

"Why did you call and tell me this, Derek?"

"I, uh, I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yes, of course I'd want to know, and no doubt now that the cat's out of the bag, Addison will be calling me herself to tell me. So why are you calling me this morning to tell me this news when you know the very first thing I'm going to want to know is does this mean you've come to your senses and you're going back to your wife?"

He sat quietly and thought about his mother's question, knowing that without doubt, he had called for a very specific reason.

"I didn't know right away... if I wanted... if I was ready for..."

"Derek Shepherd, if you tell me this is about that... girl... I swear, the Lord may not be able to protect you."

"Mom, you know I'm with Meredith now. This isn't going to be easy."

"The 'not easy' is your fault, Derek, and no one else's."

"Mom..."

"No," she said strongly, cutting him off. "I've put off saying this to you because I kept hoping that the son I raised, the Derek I knew, would take control of his life again, but there's no more time for games, Son. You have been dodging something since long before you left New York, and you know I'm right. Whatever it is you're running from, that you're using this romantic intrigue to hide from, figure it out before you stick my grandchild in the middle of it."

It was not as if Derek was blind to the fact that he'd been hiding since he'd come to Seattle. The whole "lie of omission" to Meredith had been about hoping he could postpone indefinitely any need to deal with how he felt about Mark and Addison and the state of his marriage. That plan had failed miserably and had set him, Addison and Meredith on the agonizing road they'd traveled together.

What was harder to admit to himself... what he needed to be reminded of... was that he'd been hiding long before he'd packed up the Rover and begun his cross-country drive. What was pushing away his wife if it wasn't hiding from being honest with her? What was working 18-hour days filled with surgeries other doctors could have done if it wasn't avoiding looking at what he was thinking or feeling about his own life?

"You're a good man, Derek, but you haven't been acting like one." His mother's voice pulled him back from his internal thoughts. "I want to be proud of you again."

He gripped the phone and sighed. "Addison will probably be in the hospital for a few days, so give her some time before you call, okay?"

"Okay. You're not really ready to talk yet. I get it. But I think you're ready to think, Son. You need to do that, and soon. You never get a second chance to have your first child, Honey. Both of you need to remember that."

Derek said his good-byes and rose from the bed, stripping his clothes off as he moved to the shower. The hot water beat down over his back as he stood inside the small chamber and tried to think of the day ahead. He had an aneurysm to repair today, and his patient and her family were counting on the surgical precision and focus he was legendary for in the O.R. His human indecision and tumult would need to be left outside.

Still, before he left for work that day, Derek picked up the notepad again. Beneath "I am the father of Addison's baby," he added two thoughts spurred by his conversation with his mother.

"What do I want the baby to know about me?"

"What am I running from?"

Eighteen hours later, after his aneurysm case had turned into two surgeries--one to remove the dilated blood vessel and one to repair a post-surgical hemorrhage--Derek checked his messages. He was not surprised to find none from Meredith, and in some ways, he was relieved. He didn't feel like he could explain anything yet, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing to anyone, Addison and Meredith especially, until he found some surety about what the words were that he wanted them to hear.

He checked in at the desk and discovered that Richard had gone home for the night. Derek wondered who was with Addison, and he again found himself moving toward her room. A few steps away, he heard laughter. He recognized his wife's immediately, and Mark's, the sound unmistakable after all the years they'd known one another. Voices filtered out and Derek realized that Burke and Bailey were both inside as well, their telling of a story the source of Addison's amusement.

A pang of wanting spread through him, and Derek wished for some of his trademark arrogance to materialize so he could walk in and join them and just spend time with her, with her friends, and not feel like an outsider. But he knew that's what he would be right now. The room was full of people Addison depended on and trusted. He couldn't imagine how much time and effort it would take on his part before she counted him on that list of people once again.

Derek went home and stared at his notepad. He stared at it for hours before he added a note beneath "What do I want the baby to know about me?"

"I want him or her to know that when I let them down, it's about me and not about how much I love them."

Beneath that he wrote, "Did/does that apply to Addison, too?"

The next morning, he looked at the notepad and found himself unable to wrestle with anymore of his demons. He went to work. He checked on his patients. He found reasons to linger at the hospital in the hopes that he would work up the nerve to go and see his wife and tell her what he was feeling about the baby. But his nerve betrayed him, and Derek instead returned home, walked past his notes and climbed into bed.

He was surgery free the next day, and Derek had no logical reason to be at the hospital in the morning, which meant being there would only send the interns and nurses scurrying around wondering what his presence meant. So he set out early enough to pick up a box of doughnuts and some coffee, and then he drove to the Webbers' home. Richard was just getting into his car when Derek pulled up.

"I have chocolate with sprinkles," he yelled. "And coffee... I know Adele never lets you have doughnuts or coffee anymore."

Richard glanced back over his shoulder and, seeing no prying eyes staring at him from the house, he closed his own car door and walked toward the Range Rover.

"You brought doughnuts? You must want something."

Derek nodded and drove around the corner to the city park that was the cornerstone of the Webbers' neighborhood. He and Richard climbed out of the truck and moved to a picnic table with their breakfast.

"So... are you bribing me because you think I'm still angry about that moronic fight with Sloan? Which I am, by the way. Or were you hoping I hadn't noticed that you have yet to make it back to visit Addison since I told you she was okay?"

The judgment in his friend's eyes was well-earned, and Derek knew it. He shook his head, mounting little defense.

"I've been checking in on her. But I wanted to touch base with you and just... make sure things are what they seem. She and the baby are really okay, right?"

"They are," Richard said. "We're still monitoring the fetal heartbeat, but there hasn't been any distress. We're doing it more now for her peace of mind than for any real medical concern. And all her concussion symptoms have diminished."

Derek closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "Thank you for that. I read the chart, but it's not the same as... you know, hearing it from someone I trust or seeing her myself."

"Then go see her, Derek. No one's keeping you from walking in the door."

Richard's tone had a sharp edge, and Derek could sense his mentor's impatience. "I know. But I just need to sort some things out before I talk to her."

"Like what?" the older man asked.

"I'm still in love with my wife."

The admission felt enormous to Derek because he'd kept it to himself for so many weeks now. Richard, however, seemed unfazed and he reached for a second chocolate doughnut with sprinkles.

"Took you long enough to figure that out," he said. "And Meredith?"

Derek shook his head. "When I met Mer, I didn't want to feel anything. But she made me feel. And it wasn't stressful or sad or hard like things had been with Addison."

"So you have feelings for Meredith. But you still love your wife. The wife you're divorcing so you can be with Meredith."

To say it sounded ridiculous when someone said it to him plainly and simply was an understatement.

"The whole time I was back with Addie, I missed Meredith every day. And now that it's reversed, I miss Addison. Only it's different. Because I thought I could learn to live without Meredith in my life, but that's never been an option with Addie. I mean, not even before the baby, and certainly not now... it's just... I couldn't do that."

Richard nodded and sipped his coffee. "You want some free advice?"

Chuckling to himself, Derek motioned with his hand to indicate his acceptance of said advice. After months of not wanting to hear what anyone thought about his life, he couldn't help but be slightly amused at his sudden hunger for opinions on his predicament. If that wasn't an indication of how far off course he'd veered and how much help he needed to get back on track, he didn't know what was.

"You know I care about Meredith," Richard said. "She's important to me. And you and Addie... you two couldn't be any more like my own kids if Adele had wiped your noses and powdered your butts. But, Derek, you aren't the same man I knew in New York. Now some of that's gotta be what happened with Addison and Sloan, and I can understand that, but I never thought you could hurt someone as much as you've hurt your wife."

The disappointment Richard felt was obvious, and Derek felt the weight of it settle on his shoulders. There was no way to deny something he'd seen with his own eyes. Whatever hurt he'd felt in his marriage because of her actions or through their mutual fault felt small in comparison to the well of pain he'd seen in Addison the night she'd unraveled at the fund-raiser. His indifference and his inability to make a choice about his life had done that to her.

"Meredith has a million reasons to be as damaged as she is," the chief continued, "and I don't fault her for most of that. I think it's past time she started taking responsibility for how she handles that baggage she carries, but still, I get it. And I guess I even kind of understood when I found out about you two. You were looking for an escape and lord knows, Meredith seems to be an expert on that topic. If that's all it had been, if you'd both let it go at that..."

Richard paused and Derek could see him thinking about what his next words should be. He sensed that whatever it was would challenge him given the care and contemplation the older man was investing.

"That's not what happened, though," Richard finally said. "You saw something that convinced you your salvation was in this young, wide-eyed intern and she saw something just like it in you. But you can't fix what's wrong with Meredith Grey, Derek, any more than she can fix what's wrong with you. You ask me... that's what you're in love with, that fantasy. You want it all to be that easy. But a fantasy is all it is."

Asking for the observations and accepting them without feeling defensive and angry were two different things. Derek pushed himself away from the table, his mouth hanging open, as he stared at his friend.

"I didn't imagine how I feel, Richard. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it isn't real."

"No, it doesn't." Richard leaned hard into his elbows as he sipped at the coffee cup that he held in both hands. "But tell me, something, Derek. If it's so real, then why didn't you tell Addison to go to hell the minute she showed up in Seattle?"

"What?" Derek fought to keep his temper under control. "You and Adele were all over me to give her a second chance. And my family--they wouldn't let up about how I needed to forgive and try to move on."

"Oh, sell that to someone who doesn't know how stubborn you are, Shepherd. You never do anything you don't want to do. So just be honest, with yourself if not with me, about why you took Addison back."

"Well, you seem to know everything," Derek snapped back. "Why don't you tell me why I took Addison back even though I was in love with Meredith?"

Richard stood and walked up to him. The chief's face drained of anger and annoyance right there in front of him, and Derek saw instead a look of compassion and understanding.

"Because you know, deep down, that everything you are that counts is wrapped up in Addison. Everything--what you're proud of, what you know, what you've dreamed of--you can't remember any of it without her. Now Meredith Grey might be able to help you hide from all the things about yourself you don't like, but she isn't the best of you, Derek. So you might love her, but you don't need her. Not really. What you need is what you had... what you let slip away."

Walking past him, Richard moved back toward the parked Range Rover and climbed inside. Derek stood numb and watched him go, unable to move for long moments before he finally followed and joined his friend.

After driving Richard home, Derek headed off, just driving, his thoughts battling with one another as he tried to sort them all out. He had finally invited those he loved inside his personal confusion, and what he saw reflected back in their eyes was a man he didn't know. More upsetting to him was the fact that as he looked back at the actions of this man that he was now, Derek found himself disgusted. Not the same man Richard had known in New York? Not the son his mother had raised? He had no defense to either charge, and he was beginning to wonder what Addison had seen in him at all to make her stay and fight for him when he could barely recognize himself anymore.

It was nighttime when he pulled up in front of the big craftsman and parked along the curb. He stared in and saw the lights on, saw her car in the driveway. Derek was halfway out of his truck when he heard the front door of the house shut. Meredith made her way down the walk and met him on the passenger side of the Rover.

"Hey."

"Hey," he replied. "I, uh, I thought we should talk."

She nodded, her hands shoving deep into her jacket pockets. "We should."

Derek took a deep breath and rubbed his right hand along his jaw. He felt hot and a little sick to his stomach. But he also knew why he'd come here.

"I need to ask you a question," he said. "Is that okay?"

Meredith shrugged. "Sure."

"When we were apart and I was with Addison and you thought about us... about what you wanted to happen for us... what did you see?"

Her brow furrowed and Derek watched as she considered his words.

"I... I'm not sure I understand. I mean, I just wanted us to be together."

"Right," he answered, his arms crossing in front of him. "I did, too, but I'm saying, why? Why did you want us together? Did you... I don't know, did you imagine us living together or making plans, taking trips, talking about kids?"

"I..." Meredith stopped and looked down at the ground. When she looked back at him, he saw a sadness in her eyes that he recognized because he was feeling it. "I didn't think about it like that. I just... missed you. I felt like we never really got a chance, and I wanted one."

Derek nodded. "I didn't either... think about it that way. I never really saw past missing the fun, the wildness of it all, you know? I didn't want to see too far down the road."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Derek. I mean, not everyone has to plan everything or analyze every little point of what might or might not happen."

"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe not looking at the future is just another way of avoiding the past."

Her confusion returned. "What... what do you mean?"

"When you asked me about my past and I wouldn't answer you... you think that was all about me not wanting to tell you I was married."

Mer moved closer to him, but now she wrapped her arms around herself, as if she knew somehow she needed protection from what was to come. She made no attempt to respond to his statement, so he went on, realizing that now that he'd begun, there was no stopping.

"I did want to tell you I was married, but then I knew I'd have to tell you why I left. And what I was really afraid of, Mer, wasn't you walking away from me. It was you asking me why it happened or why I just walked out or what I felt about it. Because I didn't know, and I just... I didn't want to face that."

"But you did tell me those things," she countered. "Once Addison came, you told me what happened."

Derek shook his head. "I read you Cliff's Notes. I didn't do it on purpose, but that's what I did. Because, see, Derek... the Derek I was before... he would never have let his life get so out of control. He wouldn't have needed those answers because he'd have never let the questions exist. But the guy you met in that bar, the one I've been until now, when I can't run anymore, he's not me, Meredith."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Her voice was demanding now, angry. "I know who you are, Derek."

"No," he said simply, knowing he could prove to her in a dozen ways that she was wrong, starting with admitting his feelings for his wife. But he didn't want to hurt her. He just needed her to understand. "You don't know me, Mer, because I don't even know who the hell I am anymore. And if I don't know me, then how can you?"

"And does Addison know you? Is that what you're here trying to tell me, Derek?"

A small shudder ran through his body as he moved a few steps to the side, suddenly uncomfortable.

"I'm not going to talk about Addison with you. You and I aren't about Addison, we're just about you and me and reality."

She drifted back on the walkway, maybe needing distance herself.

"So, what, Derek, did you, uh... did you have this deeper whatever with Addison where you saw the future and knew what you wanted? I don't want to lock you into some perfect vision of who we're gonna be or what we're going to do, so somehow what we have isn't real enough?"

He lifted his right hand and ran it through his hair. "Meredith... please, just let this be about us. You're the one who keeps dragging her into this, not me."

"Because she's been there in the middle of us all along, Derek! You lied to me about her, you left me for her, and now when you're mine, when you're supposed to be with me, she's all you think about--who she's with, what she's doing, how she's feeling. And now there's a baby and you're going to think about it all the time, and we are never, ever going to have a life that I don't have to share with Addison Freakin' Shepherd!"

Sighing, he admitted defeat. He couldn't end this the way he might have hoped. But he could end it, and for all their sakes, it was time.

"Well, that was one lie I didn't tell, Mer. I told you Addison was my family. She was never going to be out of my life, baby or no. I thought you understood that."

He turned and started back toward the driver's side of the truck. When Derek glanced back, Meredith's now tear-streaked face was framed in the open window.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. But I've been running from myself for so damn long, I really didn't know I was hurting anyone. I hope someday you can forgive me."

Derek climbed into the truck and shut the door. Meredith moved closer, her hands leaning on the open passenger window frame.

"You're going back to her?"

"No," he said, his hand dropping away from the ignition and the unstarted engine. "I just know that I have to figure out who the hell I am now. And that's not McDreamy and not some angry bastard who fights people in hallways. Derek Shepherd's still in here somewhere, and I need to find him. And I need to do it alone."

She stayed still until he started the truck and then finally, she moved back and away from him. Derek glanced toward her one more time, but he remained silent, knowing there was really nothing more he could say that she might want to hear. Then he eased away from the curb and headed home.

Despite the late hour, Derek pulled his cell out and hit the speed dial for SGH. The nurse who answered his call to the perinatal unit was one of Addison's favorites, and Derek knew her well.

"Chris, it's Derek Shepherd. I was wondering, has Dr. Winslow decided when Addison can go home yet?"

"He's keeping her one more day for observation, then she's home the next morning for a week of rest."

He thanked the nurse for the information and hung up. There were still things he needed to get straight in his head, but Derek knew what his next step had to be. And it had to happen before Addison left Seattle Grace, before she was sent home thinking that his silence meant he was leaving her alone to have their baby without him.

When he got home, he picked up his notepad and wrote and underlined one new line.

"Commit, go see Addison and be honest."

*****

Addison did not doubt that if her boss or her best friend walked into her room right now, that she'd get a lecture to end all lectures for being awake before dawn. But after a restless night, she had finally given up, climbed out of bed and moved to the chair by the window.

She was no longer tethered to monitors or I.V.s, and the freedom to stand and get up and walk around was heaven. Though she'd have stayed still as stone in bed if her baby needed her to, Addison was grateful to be past that point of concern. She was so used to being busy, her every minute consumed. All the laying about doing nothing was starting to drive her a little bit crazy.

But today, she was going home, which she knew was probably the cause of her restlessness. Addison couldn't wait to get back to her house, to see her things and settle in on the couch or in her own bed and just stop worrying about what had almost happened to her and instead focus on moving past it. That was hard to do in a hospital room, which served as a constant reminder of the attack and how close she and her child had come to permanent harm.

Izzie had already packed up most of Addison's things so she could drop them off when she took her own stuff to the house because she was staying over for the week. It was going to be nice to have the company, and Addison was looking forward to some girlfriend time that had nothing to do with hospital life. Izzie was even planning to call Derek to see if she could pick up Doc, who Addison missed after getting so reattached to him the past few weeks. Miranda, however, was actually driving her home today because, of course, Bailey trusted no one but herself to get Addison there in one piece.

Hopefully the laughter she knew she and Izzie would share and playing with Doc and the inevitable visits from the Webbers and Bailey-Joneses and Mark would help her stop thinking about the one person she had yet to hear from since waking up.

Everyone kept assuring her that Derek was constantly asking about her and that he was just staying away "to think," but she wasn't sure how much longer she could believe that. Derek had made running from things that frightened him a form of high art. And if the baby frightened him, at what point did "thinking" turn into running once again from a conversation or a responsibility that he didn't want to face?

Addison wasn't sure when Derek had started doing that, but it hadn't always been the way he handled things. When they had first met, Derek had actually been the one who had to try to get her to say how she felt about things when they fought or when she got frustrated with the pressures of med school. She had grown up in a house where you smiled even when you were sad, where tears were reserved for deaths and then only fell in private. It had taken Derek's prodding and a lot of quality time with the boisterous and emotional Shepherds for Addison to learn to make her feelings known without feeling like she was breaking some very sacred rule.

And then somewhere along the way, Derek had stopped telling her when he was scared or angry or hurt. Addison remembered noticing it after a while, and she'd tried the same tactics he had once used on her to get him to open up again. But every attempt to get Derek to communicate had made him withdraw more and more until finally, he had left her physically as well as emotionally, taking with him the answers about what it was that had made him start to pull away in the first place.

Since she'd come to Seattle to evaluate the state of her marriage and ended up staying to fight for it, Addison could only name three times that the man she called her husband had really reminded her of the Derek she had fallen in love with. The first time had been the night he'd told her he couldn't sign the papers. He had been confused and sad and hopeful and resigned and he'd let her see all of that play out in his eyes. It had given her hope that maybe he was ready to really try to work with her to get back to where they had once been. But the old patterns had returned quickly, except that now and then, Derek let her see how he felt, and usually it was a mix of contempt and regret and bitterness, and it was all directed at her.

She had taken it so many times that finally she'd started to think she was reaching her limit. And then he had come home after Sylvia Booker's surgery, and finally... finally he'd admitted that he had cut her off emotionally. It felt like honest communication, like he was letting her back in. But just as quickly as the opening had come, it vanished, and she was again left to make the best of the situation at hand.

Convincing herself that what she had was enough had been Addison's mistake. She could see that now that she had some distance from it. Derek spent time with her, he lived with her, he made love with her, he just didn't seem to be in love with her. And for months, she had been willing to settle for that because she just loved him that much. She probably could have and would have gone on that way indefinitely had Derek not come home and slammed the door on her with his request for a divorce.

The last time she'd seen traces of "her" Derek had been outside the Alexis Hotel.

[i]"It was never about me not wanting you, Addie. It was never that I didn't love you. I need you to believe that."[/i]

Even though her response to his declaration had been to tell him the truth, that she did not believe him, Addison couldn't deny the intensity of emotion in his eyes that night. He had wanted so much for her [i]to[/i] believe it. And he'd been shattered when she had not.

It seemed the cruelest of outcomes to her that finally Derek had shown her a real break in the dam, made it clear his pain and his regret were real and ran deep, at a point where she just couldn't take anymore. She didn't have enough energy left to hope or wish or to try for one more day. And so, for only the second time, really, if you counted her affair, she had run from him, withdrawing, asking him to keep his distance.

But that had been for her. Addison needed time to heal, to try to learn to let him go. For her little girl, though, distance from Derek was the last thing she wanted. And while she had never given up hope that things would work out in the best-case sense where she and Derek could find some way to raise the baby together, the darker, more frightening scenarios she'd imagined in her head never really left her feeling at ease.

When she had woken up to find out that Derek knew about the baby, Addison had been sure he'd show up soon with some kind of reaction. But she had yet to see him. Mark was sure Derek was just trying to sort out his emotions before he came to talk about the baby. Richard and Miranda and Adele and Preston all said the same thing. But the more time that went by, the harder it was to hope that what he was sorting out was the answer to how he wanted to be involved in his child's life. Every hour that passed convinced her he was, instead, looking for a way to tell her that he was opting out--divorcing not only her, but his role as father as well.

With a sigh, she glanced at the clock. Two more hours till Miranda could spring her. Addison rose from the chair and padded her way back to the bed, determined to try to will herself to at least nap.

She was just pulling the blankets up when the door opened, and Derek peeked his head inside.

"You are awake," he said, surprised. "The nurses said they'd heard you in here moving around."

Addison was momentarily speechless at the shock of seeing him. When she finally did recover her voice, she realized he was waiting for her to tell him it was okay to come in, his body still partially concealed by the semi-opened door.

"Derek, um... come on in."

He smiled slightly and made his way into the room. He walked until he was standing directly across from her and leaned back against the wall. Addison noticed that he seemed nervous, a little broody. She tried not to read too much into that.

"I was restless," she said, needing to end the silence. "Ready to go home."

"I bet," he replied. "Five days out of the action--you must be stir crazy. Sitting still has never been a strong suit for either of us."

A soft chuckle escaped Addison's throat. "No, definitely not something the Shepherds are famous for."

Derek nodded and he shifted slightly against the wall, his legs changing position, his eyes momentarily dropping before returning to look directly at her.

"I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come by. I never meant to... I should have been here sooner, but I just wanted to get some stuff figured out first."

"It's okay, Derek."

"No." He pushed away from the wall and moved to the end of her bed, his hands pressing into the footboard. "It's not okay, Addison. I knew you were waiting for me, and I wanted to be here. I came by all the time, but I just... I didn't come in. But I had to come now because there are things we need to talk about."

"Yeah," she said. "There are. And I want you to know that I was always, always going to tell you about her."

"Her?" he asked, his eyebrows rising. "You know already?"

Addison shook her head and let her right hand fall lightly against her belly. "Oh, no, not for sure. Gut instinct."

"You have good instincts," Derek said with a slight nod of his head. "At least, you do when it comes to me. One of the things I wanted to tell you, Addie, is that you... you were right about what would have happened if you'd told me about the baby... that night when I asked you for the divorce. I can't imagine how you did it, how you got up and walked out and just didn't call me the bastard I was, but you saved all three of us from something painful and awful. And the truth is, I don't know if I'd be mad if your plan had worked out and you told me about the baby after the divorce, I only know that all I am after what you went through is grateful that you're both okay."

She felt her bottom lip trembling slightly as the explosion she feared failed to materialize. Derek seemed to understand the choice she had made, and for that she, too, felt gratitude. Nothing, not even Derek walking away from her and the baby, would've been worse than Derek staying out of obligation and Addison letting him out of her hopeless desire to hold on to him.

"This last few days, I've just been trying to figure out how I felt about everything, Addie, and I'm... I'm kind of a mess."

The pain on his face tore at her heart and Addison couldn't stop her hand from rising up toward him. Derek walked around to the side of the bed, sitting down, his fingers wrapping around hers.

"I don't know what's happened to me. I really don't," he explained. "And I have a lot of work to do to figure it out. And I'm gonna do it because, um... because a man can't be a very good father when he can't even recognize himself."

Her breath caught in her throat as Addison wondered if she'd heard his words correctly and if they meant what she hoped. And unlike so many other times when Derek had left her to try to decipher the things he had said on her own, this time he seemed to understand her need for clarity, and he gave it to her.

"I can't stop thinking about her, Addie. I smile every time I think about our baby."

And on cue, a smile she hadn't seen in years spread across his face, and Addison knew she was going to cry, but she didn't care.

"I was afraid that... that you might not..."

Derek shook his head, silencing her. "I want her. I am going to be a father to this baby. I even told my mother about her."

She smiled now, imagining Patricia's reaction to the long-awaited news that Derek was finally going to give her a grandchild.

"I really can't wait to talk to her. I wanted to tell her before, but... I couldn't do that, not before telling you."

"I know, and she understands," Derek said, reassuring her. "I asked her to give you a few days before she started calling every 15 minutes to check up on you."

In spite of all the worry and sadness and pain of the past few days... past few months... Addison laughed.

"I might even be looking forward to that," she said, laughing a second time. Though it was a soft sound, Derek laughed with her.

"I also, um... I talked to my lawyer yesterday. I asked him if papers we signed now, before the baby's born, if they'd be binding, and he said yes. So... I just want you to know that if you need me to do that, I will. Whatever you want, okay? Because I know my word can't be worth much right now, but I want you to know that I'm not going to back out on you two. I'm in this thing."

Addison released a shaky breath and nodded. "I... I actually had some papers drawn up. I wanted to have them when I told you so you'd know that I always wanted to tell you and have you in her life. They're, uh, they're in my desk upstairs."

Derek smiled and let his fingers trace imaginary lines on her hand.

"I'll go by and get them. I'll sign them and drop them off to you later, okay?"

"Okay," she said, her mind reeling from the honest way they were talking and the direction the conversation had gone in. It was what she'd wanted all along, but now it was hard to believe that Derek was really here saying the things he was.

"There's one more thing I want to tell you," he told her, his voice drawing her attention back to him. "And then I'm gonna go because I think we could both use a little time to kind of let all this sink in."

Addison nodded her agreement. Derek's blue eyes stared at her intently and she felt him squeeze her hand.

"I ended things with Meredith. And this time, I did it for myself because I know I can't move forward with anything or anyone until I figure out how the hell I got so lost. And I just thought you should know that. I want you to know what's going on with me."

She wanted so much to trust his words, but Addison had been here before--hopeful that a promise from Derek to let her in meant they could finally repair some of the damage between them. Before, Derek had "ended" things with Meredith Grey for her sake, but the rest felt familiar and scary because the last time he had said he wanted her in his life, he hadn't meant it. So Addison held back what she wanted to say... that she was glad he wanted her to be involved and that she wanted to be. And instead she gave him a soft smile before sitting back, finally pulling her hand free of his. Derek took that as his cue, and he stood up next to the bed.

"So I'm gonna go. I'll get you the papers right away. And maybe in a few days, we can talk some more?"

"Sure," she said, "you, uh, you know where to find me."

Derek nodded and moved to the door. He looked back at her as she continued to watch him, her feelings a mass of confusion she knew it would take her days to sort out. His look was intense, almost as if he meant to ask her something, but then he let the thought go, his face relaxing instead into the grin that had so often been able to melt her heart in the past.

"Thanks for hearing me out, Addie. I'll see you soon."

He opened the door and headed out into the hallway. Before the barrier to the outside world could close completely, it popped open again, and Miranda Bailey entered, her head jerking from Addison back toward where Derek had gone and then back to Addison again.

"Did he say or do anything I need to kill him for?"

It took Addison a moment to really process what her friend had said, but then she shook her head.

"No, no killing required. He wants the baby, Miranda. He even said he'd sign the custody papers if I needed him to do it as proof he was serious."

"Huh." Miranda strolled in and let her purse drop onto the bed. "Well, it's about damn time he did something right. Definitely about time. And how are you?"

Addison rolled her eyes and dropped her head in her hands. "Can you ask me again in a few hours? Right now I feel like I just stepped through the looking glass."

"All right, well, then why don't we get you dressed and out of here? Think you can handle that?"

"Yes," Addison replied, her legs moving out from underneath the covers. "Definitely, I can handle that."

"Good. I've already got the house stocked with good food. We'll talk and you can fill me in on how Derek Shepherd managed to save his life today. Maybe that'll keep my mind off the other folks worrying me."

"You mean there are other things to stress over besides me and my soap-opera of a life?" Addison asked as she headed for the closet and her clothes.

"Girl, don't even get me started. I swear, interns are worse than children."

"Any intern in particular pushing you toward a melt down?"

Miranda shook her head and sat down in the chair by the window. "Isobel Stevens. That girl is trying so hard to ruin her career, I tell you."

Addison sighed and looked toward her friend. "Denny Duquette?"

"She got into an argument with Olivia last night in front of Denny over his care. Direct orders from Burke, and Izzie questioned them. Thankfully Olivia came to me, but if it had happened with anyone else..."

"Wow. Okay, well, we're going to just have to talk to her, Miranda. She can't keep going on like this, and we just have to lay it out for her."

"I have to lay it out for her." The tone of Bailey's voice was decidedly Nazi-esque as she spoke. "You are on bed rest when we get home, remember? You can consult, but you will not get involved in handling wayward interns."

"This intern is also my friend, Miranda. So [i]we[/i] will talk about this and then [i]we[/i] will talk to her. And don't mess with me right now. I'm hormonal and I've been cooped up in this hospital for a week, not to mention my husband just did exactly what I wanted him to do, which is wigging me out a little. So let's just go home and figure out what we're gonna do to save Stevens from herself. Trust me, I could use the distraction."

Miranda looked at her crossly. "All right, fine. You can help, but you're doing it from the couch. Now go get dressed so we can get out of here."

Addison smiled, grabbed her clothes, and went into the bathroom to change.

*****

He'd started out walking back to his car and somehow instead ended up headed across the street toward Joe's. A comforting glass of scotch, a few minutes to brood--it was just what the doctor, or in this case, what the plastic surgeon ordered.

Mark pushed opened the door and headed for an open stool. Joe looked up, saw him and began to pour his single malt before he even had to ask.

"Bad day?" the bartender asked as he pushed the drink toward him.

"Don't put the bottle away," Mark replied, "I might need a second."

Joe shook his head, placed the bottle down on the bar and then moved to heed a call from another customer at the end of the bar. Mark took a sip of scotch and let it burn down his throat.

[i]"How's it feel to be home?"

"Good," Addison replied. "Very good. I never thought I could be so happy to just use my own shower and sit on my own couch."

He laughed and shifted the phone so he could grab a piece of paper. "Is there anything you need? I wanted to come by later, so I can pick up food or DVDs if you want."

"Mark, I really do want to see you and let you know what's happened. Derek came by this morning before I left Seattle Grace, and we should talk about that, but... today's kind of not a good day. Izzie's gotten herself in over her head in something, and Miranda and I really need to talk with her and it can't wait. I'm not sure how it's gonna go or how long it will take, so would you mind holding off till tomorrow?"[/i]

He wasn't sure what it was about that simple request that had sent his mood spiraling, but Mark had lost his good humor the second Addison had finished speaking. He had covered on the phone, reassuring her he didn't mind, and he certainly knew Addison well enough to know that even on her first day home, if a friend needed help, she was going to make that her priority. But some immature reflex jerked him from confident wooer to ego-bruised male in an instant.

That feeling had only intensified when he decided to try to bury his bad mood by going into work to catch up on an already out-of-control mountain of paperwork. He had been grabbing a cup of coffee when he overheard two of the nurses--Marcie and Alicia--talking about something they had seen that morning.

[i]"So she seemed happy after he left?"

Marcie nodded. "She did. I mean, not like 'the divorce is off happy,' but Dr. Shepherd definitely did something right today. I heard Montgomery-Shepherd say something to Bailey about him wanting the baby, but then I had to rush back to the desk."[/i]

Mark had told himself a hundred times that what Addison wanted for her child was what he had to want, too, because that was loving her well, that was supporting her. From their very first conversation about the baby, she had told him honestly that she wanted Derek to be a father to their daughter. He'd said he understood, that he wanted that for her, too. And he had meant it.

But dealing with reality was not the same as speculating on a possibility. It didn't seem to matter that he was supposed to want this outcome for Addison. Mark felt jealous and suddenly very uncertain about his place in her life, and while he hated the fact that it was how he felt, it [i]was[/i] how he felt.

Sitting in his office sulking away the day had done nothing to help. Instead of working on his paperwork, Mark found himself replaying every conversation he'd had with Addison over the past few months, evaluating words and expressions, looking for anything to help him feel more secure. Finding only that every talk led back to the same few points, his frustration grew. He found himself wanting to be angry, to feel justified in doing so, but he knew deep down it would be the most dishonest thing he could do right now. Addison had never wavered from her commitment to trying to work out an amicable situation for her baby with Derek. She had also never lied about the state of her own heart. And Mark was fully aware, had even told Addison more than once, that Derek was far from over her, Meredith Grey be damned.

If he was going to be angry with anyone for making him feel envious and, even worse, a little pushed aside, the only person he could really be furious with was himself. Mark knew he had taken on a difficult task in committing to waiting and fighting for Addison when her life was in such turmoil. There were bound to be times when the wait and the fight seemed futile and victory seemed out of reach. But knowing that and feeling it were vastly different, and he hadn't been truly prepared for the level of hurt his own doubts were creating.

Sick of his own thoughts, Mark had gone to leave the hospital in search of some kind of distraction or comfort. Finding himself here at Joe's with drink in hand reminded him of a host of nights in New York that had followed a similar path when his frustration over his feelings for his best friend's wife had left him looking for a way to forget. Most of those nights had ended with him skin to skin with some anonymous woman he could lose himself in for a few hours while he tried to deny that the woman he really wanted was Addison.

He spun around on his stool and let his eyes scan the room. The crowd was Joe's regulars--nurses, interns, fellow surgeons looking to take the edge off a long day. There were several people he knew by name, that he could have joined to seek out some company and a few laughs, but Mark wasn't in the mood. He turned back and set his now empty glass on the bar next to the bottle of scotch Joe had left out.

"Let's have another, huh?"

Joe nodded and tipped the bottle, pouring a second drink. Mark was just pulling the glass to his lips when a hand slammed down onto the bar's surface beside him.

"Your day suck, too?"

He looked to his left and saw Meredith for the first time, though from her condition, it was clear she'd been there awhile. She plopped down beside him and nodded toward Joe.

"More tequila, please."

"You sure you really want that?" Mark asked. "You look like you and Mr. Cuervo have already spent a lot of time together."

Meredith scowled at him. "No one asked you what you thought about me getting drunk. I asked if your day sucked, too. I'm betting it did."

Joe poured a shot of tequila for the blonde and pushed it toward her. "Last one, Mer, okay?"

She nodded and took hold of the drink, but didn't lift it from the bar. Instead she turned and looked at Mark.

"He left me. He says he doesn't know who he is anymore and he has to figure it out. Also, apparently, he thinks I don't know him. And I don't get a chance to figure it out."

Mark sighed and let his eyes drop down to his scotch. He turned the glass in a circle. "He's right."

Rolling her eyes, Meredith picked up her shot and prepared to drink it. Then she stopped, set it back down, and looked at him again.

"You know what? I'm a terrible person."

"Why do you say that?" he asked before taking a sip of his drink.

"I wanted him to not want it," she answered. "The baby... I wanted him to not want to be the father."

"You don't think that's pretty hypocritical coming from someone who went twenty years without a word from her own father?"

"I said I was a terrible person for feeling that way, okay?"

Mark shrugged and downed the rest of his scotch. "Who the hell am I to talk? I wanted him to not want her, too."

Meredith looked at him confused. "Her? You mean Addison?"

"Well, her, too," he replied. "No, Addison always calls the baby a 'her'. Habit now I guess for me, too."

The intern nodded. She sat still a moment before she picked up the tequila and threw the shot back like someone who, like him, had drowned many a sorrow in a glass of booze.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" she asked, looking back to him. "I thought you came here to get her back. Why aren't you doing something?"

"Oh, 'cause you've done such a great job of keeping Derek focused on you and away from Addison?" he shot back.

She had no response for that, and Meredith let her eyes drop to the bar. She pushed her empty glass away from her and stared down at her hands. Mark couldn't deny that he was disappointed to hear that Derek had ended his relationship with the intern even if he'd never understood it. What Derek saw in her remained a mystery to him, but now Mark couldn't help but wonder if by finding himself, his former friend didn't really mean finding his way back to Addison.

The idea twisted a knot into Mark's gut, and he stood, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be home alone.

"You're leaving?"

Meredith's voice sounded small. Mark dropped enough cash on the bar top to cover his drinks and several of hers and he nodded.

"Time for me to go."

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed.

"Alone?"

He was insecure and jealous and more than a little sad, but Mark realized as he stood there and took in the clear and easy invitation Meredith was offering that, despite failing to be quite as all right with things as he'd hoped to be, he was still a very different man from that guy in New York who couldn't list half the women he'd slept with in his effort to forget the way he felt every time he looked at his best friend's wife.

"Alone," he said. "You should do the same."

Mark headed out into the night and slowly made his way back across the street and to the hospital parking lot. He was about to head to his car when he realized he hadn't eaten before heading to Joe's and he was already beginning to feel the heady sensation of the scotch hitting his blood stream. Sighing, he went inside and started toward the nurses' desk to call a cab.

"I thought you were outta here already."

Looking up, Mark saw Alex Karev walking toward the exit.

"I was, but it turns out even badass plastic surgeons shouldn't drink on an empty stomach."

Karev nodded. "Need a ride? I was just heading home to try to catch some hoops on TV. I can drop you off."

Mark shrugged and headed toward the younger man. "Thanks. Just do me a favor, okay? Let's keep the conversation to sports and surgery. I'm not up for much else."

The intern laughed. "Trust me, dude, neither am I. Especially women. I am so sick of the women in this hospital."

Dropping a hand on Karev's shoulder, Mark chuckled. "Sounds like you and I have something in common. You want to hang out and watch the game on my big screen?"

Alex happily accepted his invitation, and Mark listened to the young man campaign to get onto one of his next surgeries as they drove toward his downtown loft. It was a far different method of avoidance than he'd practiced in the past, but Mark found himself hoping that maybe he could lose himself in a good game and a little hero worship and forget his hurt feelings by the time he saw Addison the next day.

Commentary?

contact the author