Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.

Chapter 2? How in the world did this happen?

Some months earlier.

In an effort to maintain his sanity, and, if he was really being honest, in a conscious effort to keep his "kill" rate down, Derek was spending less time at the hospital. The days when the slightest possibility of a surgery kept him in the hospital long after others had come and gone seemed distant memories.

So instead of performing the emergency craniotomy on the man who had been wheeled in five minutes before last night's shift was over, Derek went home. He crawled carefully into bed beside his fiance and adjusted the covers with the lightest touch, despite knowing he could never do it without waking her.

"You're home," she whispered in the dark.

"It's late, go back to sleep," he'd said, leaning over to kiss her temple, and he had laughed when the soft sigh she released moments later confirmed that she had.

They woke early the next morning. Sundays were their favorite day of the week.

She would casually flip through a magazine at one end of the bed, as he worked through the crossword puzzle at the other. Or she would chat excitedly on the phone to Cristina as he ran through every trick he could think of to convince her to stop. (The slow kisses he'd plant on her neck usually did it.)

This particular Sunday they woke earlier than usual. He'd recounted the night before in detail, with his arms wrapped snugly around her waist, and when he finished they'd made love.

It had been more than a year since he'd proposed, and things were pretty-perfect was a word he would use only in his head, because he knew he would jinx things if he said it aloud-but things were going better for longer periods of time anyway. And anyone who knew anything about their relationship knew that was special.

Hours later, after she'd long abandoned her magazine and he had finished the crossword with the occasional answer from her and they'd eaten breakfast, he'd seen Cristina's entrance as his cue to retreat to his office.

The yellow envelope at the bottom right of the computer screen alerted him to new emails. New pictures of his young nieces and nephews from one of his sisters, a detailed story from another, a forwarded joke from Mark, and a letter from Addison.

The emailing had started shortly after she'd returned to L.A. following her brother's surgery and the loss of their patient. At first, the emails were simple updates on Archer's condition and words of consolation about Jen.

Then Archer had returned to New York:

Subject: He's a bastard, I'm not surprised.

So I found out Archer's been sleeping with everyone in the city (under my roof, obviously). I called him out on it and he just packed and left for New York. I'm not sure how I still manage to be surprised every time; we both know this is nothing new.

Just not sure how to/ what to/ if I should tell Nay…

-A.

Meredith was well aware of the e-mails and had even encouraged him to add a "Meredith says 'Hi.'" line every once in a while, but usually she left him to respond to them alone.

Once, he waited more than a month and a half for Addison's response to a question about one of her old cases.

Subject: Did you disappear?

Where'd you go? Mark said you haven't responded to his emails either. Bailey says not to worry about the case, she figured it out. (No surprise there.)

-D.

Subject: Re: Did you disappear?

I definitely told you (and Mark) that I was going home for a couple weeks. Ginko biloba anyone? I saw Archer. He's been back at work for a while now and seems to be doing great. Not that I'd know if he wasn't.

I'm sure Nancy's told you by now, but I ran into her at that coffee place on 5th we all used to go to...I can't believe it still hasn't been run out by Starbucks. It was nice catching up, I've missed her. But most of all I've missed New York. Oh well, back to the warm sunshine :P…

-A.

Their e-mails were by no means consistent. They often involved cases. Sometimes he'd tell her how he ran into an old friend from medical school. Once in a while she'd update him on Sam and Naomi if they were on her mind.

But he wasn't expecting the email that sat in his Inbox that day.

Subject: (no subject)

I miss New York us. When did life happen?

-A.