A/N: Here's the first chapter. I can't tell you how many times I rewrote it. I'm really excited for this sequel.

I have lots of ideas for the story, but am just writing them up as I go alone, so if anyone has any suggestions, leave them as a review or PM me :)

Chapter One

It's hard to give second chances. It's even harder to ask for them.

A chance to do it again, knowing what you know now, what you've learned.

A chance to do it completely differently.

A chance to right our wrongs, to try and correct our mistakes. A

chance to try and start over, from scratch.

- Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy

Julia's POV

Slowly fading away

You're lost and so afraid

Where is the hope in a world so cold?

Looking for a distant light

Someone who could save a life

You're living in fear that no one will hear your cries

Can you save me now?

February, 2009 Two Weeks Ago

My life was different once, back in Seattle. My parents were doctors. World-class surgeons to be exact. Neonatal. Neurology. We lived in a trailer at first, on the land that my father owned and then we moved into a condo, over looking Seattle Harbour, on Union Street. I liked the trailer the best. We were actually family when we lived at the trailer.

I live in another world now. One filled with parties, drugs, and prostitution. It's an empty, emotionless, and cold. Everything is cold.

There is Ainslie, Mike, and my sister Ryleigh. I found them in the Bronx, a little over a year ago. Ainslie and Mike had thrown a party. My friend Dee brought me there.

Mike runs a "prostitution business". He operates off Backpage. My naked pictures are posted for the world to see. He is a pimp and a jackass.

Drugs help. They numb the pain. They leave you emotionless, until the high wears off and you are left struggling for air.

"I don't want you to go," Ryleigh pouts, sitting up on her bed, crossing her arms over her chest. It's the same every night. She insists. She pleas. She begs.

I was that way with Aunt Amelia. I would insist she not go. I would plea. I would beg. I hated her leaving me alone.

"Your mom will be here." Ainslie and Mike fight a lot. Ryleigh hates being left alone with them.

"I want you here…"

"I know you do," I emphasize, my fingers dance through her dirty blonde hair. "I'll be back tomorrow though, when you wake up."

"But they are always so loud. Their yelling hurts my ears."

"Here," I grab my iPod from my nightstand. "Listen to this okay? We'll do something fun tomorrow?"

"Can we go to the trailer?" I've told her about Seattle. About Derek and Addison. About the trailer in the middle of nowhere.

"Soon," I promise, placing the headphones on Ryleigh's ears, I kiss her temple. Once I save up enough money, I promised Ryleigh I'd take her.

I turn her bedroom light off, close the door and make my way through the apartment. I slip into my red heels beside the door before making my way through the building and out into the night.

Sunlight breaks through the dark sky as I let myself into the apartment the next morning. An unusual silence greets me. There's no pitter-patter of feet. There's no name calling.

On a normal morning, she's usually the one to greet me at the door with cartoons playing on the television in the background. There are no cartoons. There are no morning greetings. There is no hug, with her sticky hands wrapping around my waste.

But there is blood. There is so much blood.

"Ryleigh!" I scream, franticly, dashing through the apartment. "Ryleigh!"

The blood. There is so much of it.

I find their bodies lying on Ainslie's bed. Motionless. Blood covered. Unbearable to look at. Screams echo through the apartment. They are loud. They are horrifying.

But there is so much blood.

That is all I can tell them when I call 911. There is blood. There is so much blood.

And it is cold. Everything is so cold.

Mid February, Present Day

She will have questions, I'm sure of it. Where have you been? She'll ask, as I appear out of darkness, two years later. What are you doing here? These are questions I don't know how to answer. I can't tell here where I have been. I can't tell her what I've seen.

Images appear every time I close my eyes. Ryleigh. Ainslie. The blood. The images are dreadful. Gruesome. Repugnant. Darkness, it seems to follow me everywhere I go. Each step. Each movement. It is suffocating.

The elevator stops at the fifth floor. My feet step into Oceanside Wellness, the private practice Addison now works at. I saw her on a commercial when was at the hospital. I saw the commercial when I had to ID the bodies in the morgue. I walk up to the reception desk.

"Can I help you?" A man asks. He's got dirty blonde hair, a tan complexion. He's too young to be a doctor.

"I'm looking for Addison Shepherd," I respond, a name I haven't said in nearly two years.

The man behind the desk studies me. "Shepherd?" He raises his eyebrows.

"I uh-er I mean Dr. Addison Montgomery," my words stumble. "I saw your commercial and it said she worked here."

"She does," the man nods. "Dr. Montgomery is out for the afternoon. Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"She'll be back in tomorrow. Do you want to make an appointment?"

"I'll wait. Which way is her office?" I look around the building, start walking towards the right.

"The waiting room is that way," the man hurries around the desk and jumps in front of me, pointing in the opposite direction.

"She'll want to see me," I ensure him. "I'm her niece." It's a lie. This guy doesn't get that I haven't seen my stepmother in two years. Ex-stepmother.

"You can wait in the kitchen then," he compromises. He walks me towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if you need anything. I'm Dell by the way."

I return his smile, grab myself a bottle of water from the fridge, climb up on a bar stool and wait. It is the only thing left to do. It is the only thing I can do.

"Oh my god he shot her?" A dark skinned woman exclaims a little while later, as she enters the kitchen with a few of her colleagues. "As in shot her? Shot her?"

"As in killed her shot her," I recognize Dell's voice from behind.

"Killed who?" I look up from the magazine I was reading.

"Who are you?" A brown haired man enters, followed by a woman with curly tanned color hair. He pours himself a cup of coffee.

"This is Addison's niece," Dell introduces me.

"Addison's niece?" The dark skinned woman questions him. "Addison doesn't have a niece Dell." History has a way of repeating its self.

Derek doesn't have a daughter Mark. Addison's voice fills my memories.

"Ex-niece," I correct them.

"As in a Shepherd niece?" A dark skinned main apparels.

"Exactly!" Try ex-stepdaughter.

"Addison's over at St. Ambrose. She's not going to be back for a bit," the dark haired woman says. "I'm Naomi."

The dark skinned man is named Sam. The woman with curly hair is named Violet. The dark haired man is named Cooper. They tell me there's another guy named Pete, who works in the practice too.

"I can call her if you want," Naomi offers.

"I can wait," I inform her.

"Okay," she nods in agreement. "You can wait in her office then."

As I follow Naomi out of the kitchen, I eye Dell. It wasn't that complicated was it?

I plop my body in Addison's desk chair. Time passes by. Minutes turn into hours. After attempting to hack into Addison's computer, I rage Addison's desk.

It is dark outside by now. Out in the hallway, eyes peer at me. They whisper amongst each other.

Under a stack of old papers, I find a picture of us. It was taken Harper Avery Awards. Fake smiles appear back at me. Dead eyes. Untold secrets. So much time has passed since then. So much has changed.

I get up and walk out into the hallway, bumping into Naomi as I do.

"Oh hi," her feet stop, files in her arms. "I didn't think Addison would be this long. Are you hungry? Is there anything you need?"

"I need a picture frame."

"A picture frame?"

"Do you have one?"

"I'll see what I can find okay?"

She appears a few minutes later, picture frame in hand. "Are you sure there isn't anything I can get you? Are you okay?" Naomi studies my appearance, approaching Addison's desk.

My clothes are dirty, my hair is tangled, and my makeup is smudged. Dark circles appear under my eyes. There is a whole in my left combat boot and a missing shoelace in my right.

I take the picture frame from her. "I'm okay, thank you." It is an understatement.

"My office is just down the hall if you need anything."

I nod watching Naomi leave. I place the picture in the frame and put it on Addison's desk. It looks better framed, a bit more alive.

More hours pass, as I curl into a ball on the sofa, exhausted. Sleep has been impossible. Their bodies, the blood, the bathroom floor, it won't go away. It's an unforgettable moment, that's indented into my memory forever.

Hands shake me. My body jerks upwards, frightened, suddenly alert.

"I'm sorry," a familiar voice fills my ears. "I didn't expect to be so late."

I rub my eyes, grasp a hold of my surroundings. Emerald eyes. Red auburn hair. Addison.

"You're not my niece," she breathes and then sits down beside me.

"I saw your commercial," I whisper.

"Is that why you are here? Does your father know you're here?" Worry shows. It dances throughout her eyes.

I shake my head. "Some bad stuff happened." I hold back the tears, one's I haven't managed to cry yet.

"Bad stuff?" Addison repeats. "Are you okay?"

I shake my head again. "I didn't know were to go. Bad things happened and I just couldn't stay there, in New York. I couldn't breathe."

"Why don't you start from the beginning then," Addison suggests. "What happened in New York?"

"A lot. A lot of things Addie," sadness shows in my eyes. Horror. Trauma. Death. Can she read them?

Addison's POV

I am with you

I will carry you through it all

I won't leave you, I will catch you

When you feel like letting go

'Cause you're not, you're not alone

She'll want to know more, about the divorce, about why I'm here. She has questions, lots of them. But she doesn't ask. I have questions too. Questions that she doesn't answer. She doesn't talk about where she's been, she doesn't ask how Derek's doing. She doesn't mention Derek at all.

I show her around the house. The downstairs first; the kitchen, the living room, the half bath, and then the office. I watch as she circles around the rooms, taking it all in. I hesitate before I show her the upstairs. Kevin's in the master bedroom, recovering from a gun shot. I'm surprised he hasn't called down by now, wondering who I'm talking to.

Julia follows me upstairs. I show her the guest bedrooms and the full bath. I let her pick the one she wants to stay in. She picks the bedroom next to my room. I taking a breath, before I show her the master bedroom.

"There's something I should tell you."

She looks at me her blue eyes are filled with mysteries and opens the door to my bedroom, as if she doesn't have any fear at all.

"Who are you?" Kevin questions, as I follow Julia inside.

Her eyes bounce between Kevin and I. She doesn't say anything.

"This is Julia," I introduce her.

"I'm Kevin," he informs her.

"Maybe I should have gone to home after all." Julia takes one look at Kevin waltzes out of my bedroom. She waltzes out of sight.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly to Kevin. "She isn't exactly a people person."

"Who is she Addie?"

"She's Derek's daughter."

"You never mentioned Derek had a kid."

"It's a long story," I begin to explain. ""She has a habit of showing up places unannounced. I've been the only positive mother figure for the most part. She showed up in Seattle a little over two and a half years ago. She ran away from foster care. And then she ran away again about two years ago. She has a habit of doing that too. Kevin I should have told you…I didn't think she would be—"

"It's okay Addie, you can't rewrite history."

I nod relieved. "I can't rewrite history."

Julia's POV

Your heart is full of broken dreams

Just a fading memory

And everything's gone but the pain carries on

Lost in the rain again

When will it ever end?

The arms of relief seem so out of reach

But I, I am here

Time stops. That fairy tale, the one you secretly hoped for, the one that keep you going through all those bad moments is gone. Minutes past. They are motionless. They are wordless.

At least 10% of people in the United States of America are divorced. 1.5 million children have divorced parents. I'm now another statistic.

"I was going to tell you about Kevin," Addison starts.

"When Addie?" I counteract angrily.

"I know this is new, at lot has changed. It's been two years. The divorce, it didn't have anything to do with you. You knew we were having trouble with our marriage before you came to Seattle, before we came to Seattle."

Everything is lost.

"Our relationship wasn't healthy. All that fighting-it was not good for any of us," Addison continues. Her words all blur together.

"You never wanted me," I blurt out. I'm tired of secrets. I'm tired of lies. There is so much of it. "You just put up with me."

"That's not true Mini D. That's not true at all."

"You'd rather have Mark's baby then me. I was just an inconvenience." I'd give anything to make this all go away.

"All this time….is that what you felt? Is that why you ran away?"

"I over heard you talking to Mark about your abortion. I just thought….I don't know….I just thought you didn't want me. And at the reception, I saw Derek go into an on call room with Meredith. I was just tired of everything. The lies, the cheating, and drugs helped me escape for a while until the night of the reception and I couldn't take anymore. I just couldn't breathe."

"I am so sorry you felt that way," Addison apologizes. "If we had known, if you told us….then maybe you wouldn't have runaway."

And then, if I haven't had runaway, I wouldn't have had to see the bodies and the blood. Ainslie and Ryleligh would non-existent; in a different way then they are now—unknown, unaware of and maybe possibly living.

Addison's POV

I am with you

I will carry you through it all

I won't leave you, I will catch you

When you feel like letting go

'Cause you're not, you're not alone

I pace the living room with the telephone in my hand, back and fourth, from one end to the other. I debate calling Derek, I debate calling Mark, I debate calling Amelia.

Numbers are dialed and stopped midway through. A list of pros and cons is made in my head. Then, there is the thought of skipping the phones calls, the awkward silences, the unanswered questions, and taking a plane to Seattle, to do it all in person.

What do I say to Derek? I can't remember the last time I've talked to him. Sure I can tell him his daughter is here. He'll want to know where she has been, and if she's okay. How can I answer those questions, when I hardly know the answers to them myself?

"She's here Derek," I whisper when he answers the phone.

"She's there?" Derek repeats. "Is she okay? Where has she been?"

"I don't think she's okay. I don't know where she's been."

"It's been two years. Did you tell her about the divorce?"

"Yeah," I take a breath. "She met Kevin the guy I'm dating."

"How'd she handle that?" Derek smirks.

"Not good."

"I'll be on the next flight out."

"Let me take her home Derek," I urge. "We'll leave tomorrow."

"Addie—" Derek begins. "I haven't seen her in two years. She's my daughter."

"I know Derek. She just….she just thinks she was an inconvenience for us. I don't want to push things on her. There's still so much she doesn't know."

Derek breathes. "Is that why she ran away?"

"That's what she said, I can't get much else out of her."

"It sounds like her," Derek attempts to lighten the situation.

Silence lingers for awhile, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

"You have to tell her then," I finally speak up. "You'll have to tell her your living with Meredith. She isn't going to like it."

"I know," he agrees. "She isn't going to like it."

"She might not want to stay if she knows your living with Meredith."

"You must really want her there then," he tries to emphasize. He tries to be civil. It's something the two of us both find extremely hard to do sometimes.

"Julia may not genetically be my kid, but I love her Derek. I understand you're her father. I understand you have custody of her. We're not married any more. I just don't want her to go back to Seattle and I never see her again. I don't you to keep her from seeing me. I want to be part of her life."

"Come back to Seattle Addie," he urges me. Except there is nothing left for me in Seattle anymore. "Things are different now. I want you to be part of Julia's life. I would never take that away from you or her."

"I'll bring Julia home help her get settled but I'm not staying. There's nothing for me there anymore. I'm in a good place. I have friends here. I have a boyfriend. I run a practice."

"What are we going to do then?" Derek asks. We're both back to where we were at the beginning of the phone call.

"We'll talk to Mini D, see what she wants. You're her father. Either way, she should be with you. I don't want to risk her running again either, if that's what she doesn't want."

"We'll both talk to her when you get here tomorrow," Derek finalizes.

"What about Amelia?" I whisper quietly. "What are we going to tell her?"

"Nothing," Derek protects his sister. She's not ready to know Julia's back. If she knew, she'd be on the next flight home. "Nothing. We tell her nothing about my daughter being home."

"We can't keep lying to Julia though, when she asks were Amelia is."

"We'll tell her eventually," Derek cuts me off. We both know Julia's not ready to know Amelia relapsed. "For now, we will tell her that she's in Africa, doing Doctors With Out Boarders and there is no way to contact her."

"I don't feel comfortable lying to her," I insist.

"We're not lying to her, we're protecting her. We're protecting them."

I can only hope he is right.