Here is Part 12, now posted in its entirety.


You know when you become a surgeon that the hardest part of the job will be dealing with losing patients. It's a given. You know that as surely as you know there'll be sleepless nights or that a solid career means endless interference in your family life. If you have any doubts about it, the warnings of your residents and attendings certainly make it clear. Sure, a 14-hour surgery is challenging, exhausting and pushes you to your limits, but it's nothing compared to the difficulty of making it through that 14 hours just to watch a life slip through your fingers in the final moments. And it's inevitable. Not everyone can be saved, not everyone will be saved.

What no one can properly explain or prepare you for, though, is the wide range of emotions you'll go through when you lose patients. You expect to be angry, to be frustrated, to bear the consequences of becoming too emotionally involved. You aren't ready for the day you walk out of an O.R., calmly inform a family their loved one is gone, and go home to a fight with your wife that makes it hard for you to remember the name of the man or woman who died on your table that day. The first time it had happened to him, Derek was horrified. He wasn't that guy, the one who could write off an unsuccessful case and forget about it. At least, he had never wanted to be.

But as he grew more experienced and as he became a teacher, Derek Shepherd had come to realize that it wasn't a lack of humanity that prompted surgeons to sometimes have a non-reaction to a lost patient, it was simply reality. Your soul just couldn't handle a new nick in it for every person who you tried to help and, for whatever reason, were unable to. So sometimes the situation got to you--really got to you--like when it was a kid or when the elderly woman reminded you of your grandmother or when you found yourself facing the horrible choice between a man and a woman impaled by a pole and you knew you could only save one. And sometimes, you just couldn't let it in. You were full up with your own life and your own pain and you just didn't have room to let in another morsel of guilt or sadness. So it wasn't that you didn't care or that you weren't sorry, it was just one thing too much on that particular day.

It was something Derek and Addison had discussed a lot back in the beginning of their careers, and he couldn't help but think about it now as he sat in the gallery above O.R. three watching Addison skillfully perform an emergency C-section on a high risk patient with the hereditary bleeding disorder von Willebrand disease. True to his prediction, she'd lasted exactly six hours on "light duty" before a page from the E.R. paved her way back into surgery.

Addison had always struggled more with her emotional attachment to patients than he had. Derek couldn't fathom the total number of times he had found his wife in an on-call room huddled on the floor or curled up in bed at home as she cried over babies that would never grow up and mothers who would not live to see their children. In the beginning, he had always taken her into his arms and reassured her that there was nothing more she could've done. Later, he had caught himself both comforting and lecturing her about getting too involved with her patients. Eventually, Derek knew he had become with Addison like he was with his patients--sometimes he was able to empathize and comfort, but other times, he didn't let her or the hurt she felt in, and he'd left her to deal with the sadness all alone.

He watched her now, the "baby on board" scrub cap from Burke keeping her red locks in check, and Derek marveled at how, as he'd become detached from Addison, he'd missed how well she balanced that tendency to get too deeply involved with an ability to remain calmer, more in control than most any surgeon he knew. Even now, after facing her own pregnancy drama, there she was, negotiating a tricky procedure with a patient who needed special care to avoid even a minor bleed let alone a major complication. But Addison was moving decisively, whatever identification she felt as an expectant mother tempered by the needs of the woman whose life was in her care. Derek knew, though, that the unflappable façade would crumble later when he had to go and face Addie and tell her about Harley Salton.

As he had read over the lab work and scans earlier, Derek thought back to the day he'd asked his wife to consult on the case. The concern he'd observed for the Saltons and their then unborn child took on new meaning for him as he realized that Addison had already been trying to sort out her thoughts on her own pregnancy. Harley had been so frightened, but she had found enormous comfort and confidence once Addie had joined the case. He'd chalked that up to the way she'd always been able to display a confidence in her own skill that stayed shy enough of arrogance to endear her to patients. Now Derek couldn't help but wonder if the connection between the two women was more about them both being mothers who were worried about the futures of their children--a similarity they hadn't needed to speak about but recognized instantly.

When he had arrived at the E.R. that morning and found Harley Salton there, Derek had been forced to admit to himself that he was also invested in his patient's outcome, more so than he'd known. During a period of time when it had become nearly impossible for him and Addison to share a conversation, Harley's case had been the thread that kept them tied to one another. Even after baby Jackson had been safely delivered, Addie's concern for their mutual patient had given him reason to leave her messages or drop by with an update. That realization had dawned on him when his first thought after evaluating Harley's condition was about whether or not he should page his wife.

He decided against it. The headaches Harley had experienced could be nothing, they could be indicative of tumor regrowth or they were a potential signal of an undiagnosed complication. Whatever they were, until he knew, Derek would wait. Because as much as he had hoped Harley would be all right because he cared about his patient and wanted a good outcome, the neurosurgeon's secondary concern was that he couldn't stand the thought of seeing that look in Addison's eyes if he had to go and tell her bad news.

But he was in the gallery now waiting because bad news was all he had. While she'd been having a C.T., Harley had suffered a massive stroke. Though Derek had rushed to treat her and stop the bleeding, the damage was irreversible. An EEG had confirmed the dire outcome, leaving the neurosurgeon little choice but to go and speak with Joseph Salton and present him with the best option left to him--a choice to let Harley go in peace.

What had floored Derek was the sorrow that tore through him as he moved toward the waiting room, a sensation so strong, the doctor had had to stop and catch his breath. It was surely not the first time he'd been overwhelmed at the prospect of telling a family member that a loved one was not going to survive. But this time, the weight of failure sat heavier upon his shoulders than it normally did, and his chest ached. It wasn't that long ago that Derek had stood at Harley's bedside in full brag about the amazing Addison Shepherd and how she would safely bring Baby Boy Salton into the world so Harley could get to work recovering from her brain tumor. Now Harley was, for all intents and purposes, gone. Little Jackson had indeed made it into the world safe and sound thanks to Addie's skill, and Harley had fought the good fight, but now there was nothing more anyone could do but help Joseph say good-bye.

After regaining his composure, Derek had gone to face Harley's husband. Baby Jackson lay asleep in the man's arms, and as the reality of how their world had shifted settled over Joseph, Derek could do little but place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

In the gallery, Derek sighed and stood, stretching his back as Addison's team finished their surgery. The baby was doing well--six pounds, nine ounces of kicking and screaming girl who would no doubt charm her father into being her servant for all eternity. The mother was stable, and he heard Addison give Izzie instructions on monitoring her in intensive care before she headed into the scrub room.

He wanted nothing more than to put this conversation off, but Derek knew if he wanted to be the one to talk to Addison, he had to catch her before someone else did it for him. So Derek made his way down to the scrub room, arriving just as Addie was toweling her hands dry. She looked up as he walked in, her lips curling into a crooked grin as she rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know, I'm not supposed to be back in the O.R. today, but I bet you put money into the pool anyway, didn't you?"

Derek tried to smile, if for no other reason than to give her one more moment before he took away the contentment and joy her return to work had given her. But he knew from the slight dimming of the light in her eyes that Addison had already figured out something was wrong.

"What?"

This was so much harder than telling Joseph, which was ridiculous, Derek thought to himself, because Joseph was the one who had lost his wife.

"I, uh... I have some bad news... about a patient."

Addison's hand gripped the sink and she took a deep breath. She knew, she just needed him to say it.

[i]"Derek, just say it. I need to hear you say it."[/i]

He shuddered as he saw her face on the night he had ended their marriage. She had known then, too, he realized. The truth had filled the space between them, but it wasn't real until he did as he was asked and spoke it aloud.

"Harley Salton came into the E.R. today," he began. Derek moved closer, his body leaning against the sink as their gazes locked. "She'd been having headaches, severe ones, and Joseph was worried. So we were doing a C.T. and... and she had a massive stroke."

Derek knew from years of observation that Addison was powerless to stop the slight trembling in her lower lip that began as he confirmed her worst suspicions. There was also nothing she could do to fight off the moisture that began to cloud her eyes.

"Is there..."

Her voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"Joseph is with her now. He wanted to sit with her, to let Jackson be close to her before he... does anything."

Not taking her in his arms hurt too much, and so Derek stepped into Addison and pulled her against his body. His selfish need to do something to make her feel better overrode any fear he had of being pushed away. As he held tight, her limbs circled around him and she turned her face into his chest. He felt dampness spread across his scrub top.

"Oh, Derek... that poor family."

There wasn't much he could say. It was too sad and too tragic, and so he just let her cry and held on until finally Addison pushed back, her right hand rising up to swipe her cheeks and wipe away her tears.

"Are you okay?"

Her voice was so soft and full of concern, and it made Derek's whole body tense. He felt himself withdraw from her both emotionally and physically even as his mind scolded him for the actions. And again, he saw the change in his demeanor reflected in Addison's eyes. She released him completely, taking a step back before crossing her arms in front of herself.

The barrier they had become so used to stood between them again, and Derek had no clue why or how it happened.

"I should go check on Joseph," she said as she pulled her scrub cap off. "I'll see you up there?"

Derek nodded and then stood still as Addison moved even further away and then out the door. He stared into the empty O.R. for long moments trying to make sense of his reaction to Addison's offer of comfort, wondering why, despite the ache he was feeling, he had pushed her away. But no answer came, and as the clean up crew arrived to prepare for the next surgery, Derek headed back toward the I.C.U. and the Saltons and the grim duties that lay ahead.

Addison was just making her way out of Harley's hospital room when Derek arrived. There were tear stains on her cheeks, and she held Jackson to her chest, the little boy's head snuggled against her shoulder as he tried to fight sleep.

"Joseph didn't want him in the room when you turn the machines off," she explained. "I said I'd take him up to my office."

"Probably a good idea," Derek replied, his hand instinctively moving to rub gently against the baby's back.

There was more he wanted to say, but the words weren't there. Addison waited a moment, and then with no reason to stay, she started off toward the elevators. Derek then stepped into the solemn hospital room and stood on the side of the bed opposite Joseph.

"It's just been us for so long. I mean, we both have family, but we... we really were only close with each other. And then Jackson came, and even with all the worrying about Harley, we were just... so happy."

"He's a beautiful little boy," Derek said. "I can't imagine too many hours going by that he doesn't make you smile."

Joseph chuckled despite the drops of moisture that were running over his bottom eyelids. "Seriously, he just has so many silly looks and giggles and sounds he makes. Harley's favorite is when he wakes up and he claps his hands together--really claps them--to let us know he's awake. She was so amazed that he did it the same way every day from the first time he realized he could do it."

As he spoke, Joseph's hand moved to rest against Harley's forehead. Derek watched as the devastated husband's eyes kept searching for any sign that maybe some miracle might still be possible.

"She's my wife. She's the only wife I've ever wanted. I never even thought about marrying any of the other women I dated. Just her. Just my funny, beautiful, powerhouse Harley. And now I'm just supposed to let her go? Just like that."

Now Joseph's eyes rose and Derek took in the man's intense gaze.

"How do I do that?" he asked. "How do I let her go?"

It was a question Derek understood. Despite his love for another woman, despite their affairs and all the hurt and all the ways they had changed, Derek had spent much of his recent life trying to figure out how to let go of his own wife. It was a subject for which he had little wisdom to offer.

"I don't know," he admitted, choosing raw honesty over any attempt to avoid the question. "I wish I did, Joseph. I don't know how someone is supposed to say good-bye to the person they've shared their life with. I've been trying to figure that out myself for a while now, and I'm afraid I'm no closer than when I started."

Joseph sighed and drew Harley's hand up in his, holding it tight. "But you don't have to let go, Dr. Shepherd. You chose to, but you didn't have to. I promise you, if I had any choice in this, I would never, ever let her get away from me."

Derek nodded, too ashamed of his own failings as a husband to try to defend himself, too in awe of the devotion in front of him to try to say anything for fear he'd minimize it. Instead, he stood silently and waited until Joseph was ready. Then the doctor called in the duty nurse, and they disconnected the machines keeping Harley Salton alive, and her husband held on to her for every last second the world gave him.

Then she was gone.

He waited out in the hallway until Joseph was ready to go, and then Derek walked alongside the grieving man as they made their way to Addie's office. They took the stairs because, Joseph said in a strained voice, he was afraid he would break down if he stood still.

Addison's door was open, and Derek could see that Bailey was inside with her, the two women both fighting to keep up a cheerful front for Jackson, who lay on a blanket on the floor between them, highly amused by the baby talk and faces the ladies were offering as entertainment. He knocked softly on the door to announce their arrival, and Addison stood, drawing the little boy with her.

"I'll never let him forget the time we had with her," Joseph said, he reclaiming his son. "And I'll always be grateful to you both for the chance we got to be a family."

The words were meant so kindly, but Derek felt undeserving of them. Though he couldn't think of a single fault in the treatment he'd provided for Harley or in her overall care, she hadn't lived, and the sense of responsibility he felt put knots in his stomach as he watched Addison hug Joseph and Jackson once more before they made a solemn exit.

When he turned back toward the two other doctors, Derek saw the worry and sympathy in both Addison and Bailey's eyes. But before either could offer him so much as a word, he cleared his throat and walked out of the office.

He'd already rescheduled his day to accommodate the emergency with Harley, and so now Derek's day was finished. He stopped at his office only long enough to grab his jacket and briefcase, and then he walked out of Seattle Grace and moved faster than he ever had toward an empty bar stool and a glass of scotch. Joe was pouring his second drink when Derek inhaled a familiar fragrance.

Lavender.

"Hey."

Meredith and he had successfully avoided one another since their breakup, though Derek kept meaning to track her down and talk to her about Doc. He knew the conversation would be awkward and strained, which was why he kept putting it off. And he felt more than a little guilty that his mismanagement of his romantic life might mean even Doc's life would be torn apart. He didn't think the floppy-eared canine could stand it if he went back to a life with no Addison in it, and Derek was more than a little concerned that Meredith might decide to take the dog back now just out of spite.

That was a conversation for another day, though, a day when his heart wasn't this heavy and his mind wasn't already clouded by a damn fine scotch.

"Hey," he replied before he downed half of the drink in front of him. Meredith eased down onto the stool beside him, and Joe poured her a shot of tequila without being asked.

"I wasn't sure if I should come over, but... I heard you had a rough day."

Derek nodded. "Yeah, it was definitely not a good one."

He waited, and when she said nothing else, Derek picked up his drink, focused his eyes on it and took a sip. He studied the liquid and the way it looked in the glass and he noticed in his peripheral vision when Meredith picked up her drink and downed it quickly. A moment later, her hand came to rest atop his forearm.

"I'm really sorry about your patient. I know that case was important to you."

Derek shrugged. "All my cases are important to me."

He heard her sigh and turned to look at her, prepared to support his statement. Then he saw that she, like Addison before her, was looking at him with those eyes filled with concern and sympathy and a desire to do... something... to help. His pat automatic shield went into place and Derek turned away and let the rest of his scotch burn in his throat as he tapped the glass on the bar to let Joe know he wanted another.

"But she was more important," Meredith continued. "I remember thinking you were more invested in her than I'd seen you with another patient. So this must be that much harder."

When he looked back at her, Derek felt his jaw set and his muscles tense up with anger. But when he thought to say something mean or cutting to force Meredith to withdraw, he instead heard his own voice in his head as ghosts from his past seized the opportunity to reveal themselves.

[i]"I'm not like you, Addison. I know the difference between caring for my patients and letting my emotions weaken me."

"Really, Addie, if I needed to talk about it, I'd tell you. I'm fine. It's not like this is the first patient I've lost."[/i]

He also saw... himself tearing his hand out of Addison's caring hold, her recoiling from the very tone he'd been about to use to send Meredith running, and he saw nights where he had sat in his office alone or in a bar with Mark or when he'd stayed downstairs sitting on the sofa while Addison waited upstairs hoping he'd come to her for comfort.

But he'd stopped doing that, stopped allowing himself the luxury of a warm touch or a sweet word from his wife when he needed them because... because why?

He shook his head and tried to chase the ghosts away. Then Derek stood and dropped enough cash on the bar to cover his drinks.

"Derek?"

He heard Meredith call his name, but Derek didn't stop. He walked back to the hospital and, finding that Addison had already left, he called a cab and then went back outside to wait for a ride to the only place in the world he suddenly wanted to be.

*****

Addison gratefully accepted the glass of water Miranda offered before her friend sat back down at the dining room table in the chair opposite her.

"Tucker's going to start charging me some sort of fee for all the hours you spend trying to straighten out my life."

Miranda laughed and took a sip of the warm herbal tea that sat before her. "Are you kidding? Anytime he can go hide in that study and spend a few hours with his XBox, Tucker Jones is only slightly less happy than my son is when he gets a cookie. He should be sending you thank-you cards."

A slight chuckle broke free of Addison's throat despite the rawness hours of crying had left behind. Her first day back at work had taken twists and turns she'd never expected and torn open old hurts that had only just begun to heal.

It had started out well. Her office was filled with flowers and cards from her coworkers welcoming her back, and though she'd have denied it to most people, Addison was deeply touched by the outpouring. She felt affirmed in her belief that making a life for herself and her daughter in Seattle was the right choice not only to keep Baby Girl Shepherd close to her father, but also because they were going to have a full life here.

Addison avoided becoming a teary mess, however, when she burst out into giggles upon discovering a lab coat-wearing teddy bear sitting in her chair. When she pulled the card from the small stethoscope that hung around the bear's neck, Addison found a note from Mark that read, "I know the whole world will want to see you today, so I'll stay out of your hair, but maybe you'll let me buy you dinner?"

She made a mental note to call him when she took her break.

Izzie arrived a few minutes later with a stack of charts Addison needed to review and then they had headed off to rounds. There was no missing the purposeful way Meredith Grey averted her eyes when Addison joined Bailey and her interns, but she had let it go and just as purposefully not asked Meredith any questions as they moved from patient to patient. She understood what it felt like to have Derek walk away from you, and no matter how temporary or lasting his decision was, Addison knew that Meredith needed time to get past the awkward. While the still-stung jealous wife in her might hate that fact, the teacher in her was required to make it work, and so Addison was determined to do just that.

After rounds, there were two consults on cases she had been forced to delay due to her recovery, then lunch with Preston and Richard. And then Addison had been paged to the E.R. because Pollock, who was on-call, was already in surgery.

She'd been busy, but not so occupied that it didn't dawn on Addison as she scrubbed in for her afternoon emergency C-section that she had yet to see Derek. That surprised her. She had half expected to have him popping up throughout the day harassing her about being on her feet too much or not eating enough or just being a general worrier about the baby on her first day back.

The little nagging voice that whispered to her that she was also feeling a little disappointed was something Addison had shrugged off. The last thing she wanted was for Derek to feel obligated to check in on her or to spend time with her, so she justified his absence by deciding it was better for them both, ultimately, if Derek only truly acted attentive when he genuinely felt it. That way, she'd stay clear on what her place was in his life and there would be no mixed signals passing between them.

Having resigned herself to that self-protective point of view, Addison was definitely thrown when she looked up after hearing the scrub room door open to find Derek standing just across from her. She covered her surprise with a smile and an attempt at a joke she figured played into why he was there--to scold her for pushing herself too hard.

"I know, I know, I'm not supposed to be back in the O.R. today, but I bet you put money into the pool anyway, didn't you?"

He attempted to return her smile, but the corners of his mouth barely managed to lift and his eyes looked pained. Addison knew right away that his purpose here was for something far different than she'd first assumed, and she faced him fully as she tried to prepare for whatever was coming.

"What?"

As Derek spoke, Addison gripped the sink for support. As he explained to her in a halting voice about Harley Salton's appearance in the E.R. and of the devastating stroke their patient had suffered, a powerful sadness took root in Addison's gut. She knew how something like this could happen, and yet it still seemed so horribly unfair, so unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. God, the thought of Harley gone, of her little boy all alone...

"Joseph is with her now. He wanted to sit with her, to let Jackson be close to her before he... does anything."

Addison tried hard not to expect comfort from Derek, but she couldn't deny how much she wanted him to just hold her and tell her this would, somehow, be okay. When he moved closer and opened his arms to her, enveloping her, she gratefully let herself sink into him, her arms tightening around him. Her tears flowed freely against his dark blue scrub top, and she marveled that even now, when their marriage was just weeks from being over forever, his arms were still the safest place on Earth to her.

"Oh, Derek... that poor family."

He said nothing in response to her observation because, really, what was there to say? There were no words to make this seem less horrible or to stop the questions running through her mind, the questions that always came when a patient she just couldn't bear to lose was lost anyway. It didn't matter that her part of Harley's case had gone well, that Jackson had lived and was thriving. It hurt to know it hadn't all ended up picture perfect.

Worn out from the intense and heartfelt tears she'd shed, Addison pushed herself back from Derek's body and wiped her cheeks. She could see so much disappointment in his eyes... he'd really been sure that he'd beaten the tumor, that Harley would survive. To lose her now and in a way he'd had so little control over had probably, she knew, made him want to scream in frustration.

"Are you okay?"

It took more strength than Addison was aware she had in that moment not to fall apart as Derek responded to her concern by tensing up and literally pulling away from her. She shouldn't have been surprised, she knew that. He had long ago stopped letting her take care of him when he was angry or upset, rebuffing any attempt she made to help him. Why she had thought it would be different now she didn't know, but seeing that her worry was not wanted, she stepped back and folded her arms in front of her own body.

For all that she hoped had changed for them in the time she'd been in Seattle, despite her wish that they at least become real friends again so their child would grow up in a peaceful atmosphere, Addison felt like she was reliving one of a thousand lonely, rejection filled days in New York.

"I should go check on Joseph," she said, pulling her scrub cap off. "I'll see you up there?"

He had given her a slight nod, and then Addison made her way from the room to the elevators so she could seek out Joseph Salton. When she found him, he was at his wife's side, their son cradled in his arms as the two looked at Harley.

"Your mother is the strongest person I have ever known, Jackson. I hope you always remember that. You made her happier than anything else in the world ever did."

Addison blinked back a fresh set of tears and turned her head away as she cleared her throat to let Joseph know she was there. Despite how heavy his heart was, he smiled at her when she came deeper into the room.

"Hey, Dr. Shepherd."

"Joseph... I'm so, so sorry," Addie offered as she crouched down beside his chair.

"Thank you," he replied, "and thanks so much for coming. I know it would mean the world to Harley. She admired you so much."

"She was..." Addison heard her voice falter, and she reached out and took hold of Jackson's extended hand to try to steady herself. The little boy was tired, his eyes drooping and popping wide open alternately. "She was very special to me."

Joseph tipped his face down and kissed the top of his son's head. "When we found out about the tumor, Harley was so sure she'd never live to see him. And she was so scared he wouldn't make it. When Dr. Shep--the other Dr. Shepherd told her about you, that was the first time I saw her hopeful since she'd been diagnosed. I know she'd say she was lucky to have the time she did... but this is just so damn wrong..."

He stood then and Addison moved as well, coming to eye level with him. When Joseph moved Jackson toward her, she nodded and took the baby into her arms. The little boy immediately nuzzled his face into her shoulder.

"I... there's no one else here with me, and I really don't want Jackson to be here when she goes. Would you mind..."

Addison smiled and put her hand on Joseph's arm. "I'll take him up to my office. Derek will bring you up after."

A dozen things she could say ran through Addison's head, but all of them were the trite things people always said in moments like this, and she hated those things. Even if the words were sincere, they sounded hollow in the face of this kind of loss. So instead she let her fingers find his, and for a silent moment, they just stood there, hands entwined.

The hour that followed her departure from Harley's hospital room felt five times as long, and she wasn't sure how she would have made it without Miranda at her side. Jackson had slept most of that time, waking up just a few minutes before his father had come to claim him, so the little boy missed Addison sobbing into her friend's shoulder, missed Miranda's own shaky voice as she, too, struggled to find something comforting to say.

When Derek and Joseph came, Addison stood up from the floor where she and Miranda had been playing with the baby on a blanket grabbed from the nursery. She couldn't imagine anything would benefit the grieving man more in that moment than holding the child his wife had left behind, and so she passed Jackson back to his father's waiting arms.

"I'll never let him forget the time we had with her," Joseph said, his voice trembling. "And I'll always be grateful to you both for the chance we got to be a family."

Addison moved forward and put her arms around Joseph, enveloping the baby as well. She said a silent prayer for them and then whispered an offer of help if they needed anything. Joseph nodded and then took his son and left to go begin life without the woman he loved.

With the Saltons gone, Addison let her attention wander back to Derek. He looked shell-shocked and uncertain what he should do next. It killed her to see him like that, especially because she knew from bitter experience that he would never admit what he was feeling, at least not to her.

When he had walked away without a good-bye, Addison heard Miranda sigh.

"He gonna let that guard down anytime soon?"

Shaking her head, Addison had walked back to her desk chair and sat down. "Not in front of me. Maybe with someone else. I don't know."

She had still been sitting there at her desk when, long after Bailey had gone to check on her interns, Mark walked into her doorway and knocked softly against the wood.

"Hey there," he said, stepping in and moving closer to her desk.

Seeing him, Addison opened her mouth to voice an apology. The whole day had passed and she had never gotten around to calling him to say thank you for the gift, to acknowledge his invitation, even to just say hello.

"It's okay, Addison, I heard," he said, absolving her immediately. Mark stopped beside her and leaned against the desk, then he reached for her hand. "I'm so sorry."

She turned her palm up so that their hands could lock together, and Addison closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath that she let out slowly, hoping that some of her hurt and sadness would leave her in the process.

"It doesn't seem like a lot to ask from life, does it--a healthy baby, a chance to watch him grow up and share it with the man you love? It's not a big wish."

He lifted his free hand, and she felt his fingers move against her cheek softly. Addison kept her eyes shut as the warmth of his skin and the gentleness of his touch registered. It should've been so easy to lean into him, to accept his comfort and allow him to ease the sadness and grief she felt. But Addison was simply too worn down to pretend that falling into Mark's arms was an option. Because it just... wasn't. There was only one man she wanted to want to comfort her, and it was not the one in front of her.

Her eyelids suddenly felt like they were made of cement, but Addison forced them open. She found Mark looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to move or to speak or to let him in. The weight of his hope pulled at her, making her feel nearly obligated to accept his tenderness simply because he was offering it.

That thought sobered her, and Addison did the only thing she could think to in the moment--she leaned back, melding her spine to her chair, using the action as an excuse to pull her hand free of his hold. She tried not to react when she saw Mark flinch at the loss of contact.

"Why don't you, uh, let me take you home, get you some dinner?" He offered, but his voice had changed, and Addison couldn't miss it. She had hurt him by pulling away, and she wished that she could take it back, but it was too late. The pang of guilt made her wonder if Derek ever felt that kind of regret when he pushed her away, or was he too busy trying to put distance between them to even notice the sting his rebuff left behind?

"Mark, I... I know you're just trying to help. And I really do appreciate it. I just... I can't do this right now. I'm sorry."

He sighed and lowered his head, then he stood tall and sank his hands into his pockets.

"Addison, I..."

Mark stopped and she waited as he considered what he wanted to say. Finally, he shrugged and motioned with his elbow toward the teddy bear he'd given her, which was sitting on her desk.

"Do you think she'll like it?"

Eyes wandering to the bear, Addison managed a small smile. "She'll love it."

He nodded, then moved toward the door.

"Mark..."

She felt like she should say something, but what escaped her. He paused in the entryway, waiting for her, and when she said nothing further, Mark turned back to her.

"Get some rest. I'll... I'll check on you tomorrow, okay? We can talk about... everything else later."

A fresh wave of tears had washed over her in Mark's wake, leaving Addison numb and tired and wishing to be anything but alone. Still, she knew that she had been right to send Mark away. Using him as a replacement for Derek had failed miserably in their former lives together in New York. Doing it now, especially when she could see how much more invested his heart was in the outcome, was simply out of the question.

Resigned to a long night of complicated thoughts and unmanageable emotions, Addison packed up her things and headed to the locker room to change. Her scrubs were replaced by the simple black skirt and silk blouse she'd worn in, her need to try to hide her rounding belly eliminated by the revelation of her pregnancy. She had just stepped out into the hallway when she came face to face with Miranda, who was already dressed to go home.

"Come on. You follow me."

"Follow you where?" Addison asked as she fell into step beside her friend.

"My house. I know you can't drink, but I have tea and I have chocolate and my husband is picking up Chinese as we speak."

"Miranda, thank you," Addison said, "But I'll be fine. You need to go home to your family."

Her words were met with a famous Bailey eye roll.

"Since when are you not part of my family? Tucker's buying extra egg rolls just for you, so I don't want to hear anything about it. Now let's go."

And that was how Addison had ended up at the Bailey-Jones dining room table. They had eaten dinner with Tucker, and she had managed to enjoy listening to the easy banter of the couple. Then Miranda had let her put Tuck to bed, and Addison had marveled at how absolutely restorative it felt, even after all the years she'd been in practice, to hold a baby and lose yourself in their innocence and the possibility around them. But rocking the little boy to sleep reminded her of Jackson, and soon Addison's thoughts slipped back to the Saltons and what they had lost today.

It was after she'd left Tuck's nursery, when she'd joined Miranda for dessert back at the table, that the dam had broken again, and Addison cried anew for Harley and for her family. She also cried for her own family, for the part of her that still felt like Derek's wife and wanted nothing more right now than to be home with him, the two of them working through their pain together.

Instead, once she had calmed again, Addison sipped her glass of water and smiled gratefully at her best friend.

"I pulled a Derek tonight, on Mark," she explained, her voice cracking a bit from her crying jag. "He wanted me to lean on him, to let him take care of me, and I couldn't let him do it."

Miranda nodded and took a sip of her tea. "How did he take that?"

Addison sighed. "He let me off the hook, for now at least. But we're going to have to talk about this, about all of it. This just isn't fair to him."

"Because... you don't love him back, right? That's the problem, isn't it? He's in love with you and you aren't in love with him."

As usual, Bailey was the one to say what was waiting to be spoken aloud, and all Addison could do when confronted with it so plainly was nod in confirmation.

"I'm only gonna ask you this this one time," Miranda continued, "because the answer you give me is gonna be the only answer there is. Is there a chance, really, that's gonna change, Addison? Because if it could change, I'd tell you to hold on a little longer because I really do think he could make you happy. But if you already know, deep down, that it can't change... then you know what you gotta do."

"It just seems so ridiculous to me." Addison paused and then shook her head. "I should be able to love him, shouldn't I? There's no reason for me not to. He adores me, he's waited for me, he's been great about the baby. But I just can't seem to make myself let go and fall."

"Well, that's the whole problem." Miranda leaned forward now, her face serious. "You can't make yourself love someone. I know you know that in the smart part of your brain, but in the 'hurt by Derek' part, I think you kinda lost track of it. Now that I've gotten to know him, I think that Mark Sloan is a very good man, but if he's not the man for you, then he's not. And you can't keep feeling obligated to try because he loves you. You shouldn't have to try, you just... love. And that's just the way things are, Addison."

The truth of her friend's words were undeniable, and Addison nodded, acknowledging that the time was coming when she'd have to say something very similar to what Miranda had just said to her in order to try and explain her feelings to Mark. She owed him that. But not tonight. Tonight, her pregnancy and the long, unbearably hard day she'd had was taking its toll on the redhead, and even though she was tempted to accept Miranda's offer to stay the night, Addison decided to head home.

When she pulled into the driveway, her first thought was that Doc was still out back and was probably more than ready to go inside. Rather than going into the house, Addison instead moved to the back gate and unlatched it. When she heard the dog bark, she assumed it was in response to him hearing her return home. Then a voice rang out, and Addison froze for a moment as she realized whose it was.

"Come on, Doc, no barking. It's late and you'll get us in trouble with your mom's neighbors."

Derek was sitting on her porch swing on the back patio, his body laying in it lengthwise, his feet resting on the far arm. Doc was just making his way back from retrieving his favorite mini soccer ball when Addison's clicking high heels alerted him to her arrival. The pooch dropped the ball and raced toward her, but he stopped just in front of her and dropped into a sitting position, offering his head for petting, ear scratching and whatever other affection she was in the mood to give.

"What are you boys up to?" she asked, not sure what to make of Derek's presence at her home. He had sat upright on the swing when Doc's bark made him aware she was watching him. Now he was looking at her anxiously, almost as if he were worried she would declare him unwelcome.

"I, uh, I went to Joe's and drank," he began. "And then I didn't want to be at Joe's anymore. Then I went back to the hospital, but you'd left, so I, uh, called a cab and came here, but you weren't home."

Addison stepped up onto the patio, Doc at her heels, and she sat down on the now empty portion of the swing. "I had dinner with Miranda and Tucker. And Tuck, who, by the way, is probably the cutest baby I've ever delivered."

The stab at humor came easily to her. What did not was any sense of ease with the present situation. If Derek had come to pick a fight, she was not in the mood. But he didn't seem to want to fight. If he'd come to talk, to be with her after such a terrible day, the last thing she wanted to do was scare him off. But Addison felt cautious, too much so to really ask why he was here. If it was company and comfort he sought, part of her worried that if he told her more about his night, she'd discover that he had first gone to Meredith and been turned away given their recent breakup. To come in second again after today would hurt too much, and Addison bit her lip nervously as she sat back in the swing, stared out into the yard and waited for Derek to say something.

It was quiet for a long time, Doc's occasional groan for attention and a slight rattle from the slowly rocking swing the only sounds that weren't coming from the natural wonders of the night around them. It was so silent that Addison nearly jumped when Derek's voice finally became audible again.

"Drinking doesn't seem to work as well anymore. Used to be, I'd have a bad day, toss back a few, and it would take enough of the edge off to help me just... move on past it. But it doesn't seem to work so much lately."

"Dangerous crutch to rely on," Addison said, her reflexive concern for his well-being unmistakable. "Richard would be the first to tell you that."

"Indeed he would."

He grew quiet again, and Addison closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the top of the swing's seat. She couldn't believe how utterly uncertain she felt around a man she'd been married to for so long. But Derek had said it himself--he was no longer the same person he had been when they'd fallen in love or been first married. And if he wasn't sure what had changed inside him, how could she have any idea herself?

"It used to help to know that it... that it wouldn't matter to you. When I failed, I mean. It used to mean everything that I could fail and you'd just look at me and say I'd done the best I could. I always knew you meant it."

She kept her eyes closed and drew in a shaky breath. She had always meant it. She still did. Addison's faith in Derek as a doctor was unshakable. She only wished that her faith in him as a man was still just as strong, or that the loss of it were enough to make her heart stop caring so much.

"Then that stopped helping, too," he went on. "But that was my fault. And I don't even know..." Derek stopped and chuckled bitterly. "That's not true. That's crap. I know why. Mark even knows why."

Now Addison opened her eyes and she turned her head to the side so she could see him. Derek had his head back just as hers had been, but his eyes were open and he was staring straight up into the sky above.

"God, you were just... so damn... you. Addison Montgomery-Shepherd--sexiest surgeon who ever lived, funnier than hell, brilliant and so freakin' confident... that was my wife. And I was proud. I was really, really proud... and then... I don't know. Maybe someone teased me once too often about being Addison Shepherd's husband or... some intern raved too much after we worked a case together. I don't know what it was, Addie, I just... stopped being proud. And I started needing to be better."

It was hard to find her voice given the magnitude of what Derek was saying, but she managed to get out what she wanted to ask in something just above a whisper.

"Better than what?"

He turned to face her, his blue eyes dull and guilty. "Than you."

She gasped and sat up suddenly. Derek moved closer, his hand coming to rest on her back as if he was worried he needed to steady her.

"How could you..." Her voice broke as her mind whirled with disbelief. "I worshiped you, Derek. I would never, never have thought of myself as better than you... not in an O.R., not in any way."

Addison could feel tears on her cheeks for what felt like the millionth time in recent months, and they burned against her skin as she struggled to catch her breath. She could hear Derek speaking to her, but it was hard for her to make out the words over her own upset. Finally, his hands rose to her face, resting on her cheeks, and Derek pulled her face even with his.

"Shh, Addie. Shh. Shh. Not you. Never you."

She remembered earlier that day when Mark had touched her face in nearly this same way and she had wished so much it were Derek instead. And even though she was confused and hurt and exhausted, the touch of her husband's hands against her skin, the gentleness she felt in him, it calmed her now, letting his reassurances in.

"It was never that I thought you would think or say it. It was what I felt. It was what I thought everyone saw when they looked at us. Because you were... you are all those things, Addie, so how could they not see it?"

The thumb on his right hand began to move slowly back and forth against her cheek, and Addison realized that just as he had that night in the hospital room, Derek was opening up to her in a way she barely recognized but had longed for in the dark moments of their marriage. It felt tenuous and scary, but it also felt real, and so she willed herself to stay strong enough to hear what Derek had come to say.

"I needed to prove to myself that I was better than you in some way," he said, his voice filled with regret. "And I knew for sure what I could do better than you every single day of the week. I could care less, I could feel less and I could hide more. I could think I was better than you because you hurt over every loss and you felt every story, and I knew how to shut it down and turn it off and walk away."

It was exactly what had happened. Addison couldn't pinpoint a time or name a date, but she knew that one day she'd realized that Derek had started to judge her concern for her patients. The reputation she'd earned as an intern for being too emotionally involved had become a weakness in his eyes, and though sometimes he'd still been willing to comfort her when she lost a patient or had a frustrating case, he'd been far more likely to reprimand her for caring too much. Never had she imagined that the shift in Derek's demeanor had come from his own insecurities.

Derek let his hands fall and he shook his head like he was trying to clear it. "I didn't stop to think about what putting that wall up between us would do, Addie. I couldn't need you and be stronger than you. I couldn't do both. And now I just... Harley was supposed to win. She was our patient... and you did your part, and I let her down. I thought I did everything, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't..."

She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Derek break. She was sure he must have somewhere, at some point, maybe with Meredith or with some other person he trusted enough, but not with her, not in such a long time. But she watched his shoulders begin to shake and his eyes began to glisten, and Addison inched forward and tentatively moved to pull him against her. His movements were equally hesitant, but Derek leaned toward her, and his head finally came to rest on her shoulder. Addison let her arms fall around his back, and when he didn't pull away, she tightened her embrace. A moment later, his arms snaked around her waist.

"You did everything you could, Derek," she whispered, her breath ruffling his hair. "I know you did. And Harley knew it. It just wasn't a fight you could win for her."

His body shook against hers, and Addison nuzzled her cheek against his head.

"It's okay, Derek. It's all gonna be okay."

They sat together until he was quiet and she had stopped crying from the pain of seeing him hurt so much. When she shifted her body and pulled back, Addison was careful to find his hand quickly so that he didn't think he was being pushed away. Instead, she rose and drew him with her, and Derek followed. Doc, who had lain quietly at his owners' feet through the entire scene, followed as well. Addison unlocked the patio door and, still holding Derek's hand, she brought him into her home and she closed the door behind them, the rest of the world on the other side.

He continued to trail behind her as Addison moved to the living room, stopping by the sofa. She dropped her purse and jacket onto the coffee table, then sat down in the chair that stood near the end of the couch.

"No shoes on my couch, so... off."

Addison kicked off her heels and then reached behind her and undid the button at the waist of her skirt, giving her belly a little more comfort room. Derek stood a moment watching her, before he slipped off his jacket, then sat down on the sofa and began to remove his shoes. When he was finished, Addison stood and walked toward him, her hands falling to his shoulders.

"It's very comfortable," she said as she pushed downward, and Derek gave into her guidance and laid down, his long body stretching the full length of the couch. Then when he was comfortable, she laid down next to him, turning on her side so her back was toward him.

"I know I don't have any right to need this anymore, Addie. But... thank you."

"You're still part of my life, Derek. That won't ever change."

He was still her friend, he was her child's father--Addison knew she could use either of those reasons as justification for how much she needed to see Derek through this night. But really, it was as simple as her being needed again by the man she still loved. She couldn't deny herself the comfort of that anymore than she wanted to deny Derek her consolation.

"Good night, Addie."

"Good night, Derek."

She woke a few hours later to make one of her now routine nighttime trips to the restroom. When she came back to the doorway of the living room, Addison knew she could choose, instead, to go to her room and climb into bed. Derek was still sound asleep on the sofa, and she doubted he would even notice she was gone. But she knew that deciding to stay on the couch with him had only been partly for his benefit. From the moment she'd found out about Harley, all she had wanted was to be close to him. And so she made her way back to the sofa and curled up on her side again with his familiar form right behind her.

When Addison woke again, it was to Doc barking. Derek's arm was draped over her at the waist, and she carefully eased it back, hoping not to wake him. She blinked and realized the sun was up, and assumed the dog was ready to go outside. But as she came more awake, she realized that Doc was actually barking at someone knocking on the front door. Yawning, Addison stood and moved to see who it was.

"Hey," she said as she pulled the door open, "what are you doing here?"

Mark smiled at her and then bent to scratch Doc's ears as the dog ran out to greet him. "I said I'd check on you today, remember?"

"Addie, what's going on?"

She looked to her side in time to see Derek approach, his shirt desperately rumpled from their night on the couch. She looked from him to Mark and saw the two men exchange a surprised and tense glance at one another.

Addison fumbled for something to say, her eyes alternately catching Derek's face grow angry and Mark's drop with sadness. Before she could say anything, Mark turned and raced down the walkway, and Derek spun on his heel and stormed to the patio door, slamming it shut behind him as he and Doc escaped to the backyard.

Alone, all she could think to do was close the door and go back to the couch, where she sank down, put her hands to her face, and screamed.

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