A/N: Thanks for reading, guys! I hope you continue to dig the story. It'll probably be a bunch of lil Addek moments. Maybe I'll add a lil' plot line, too...Anyway, keep reading and reviewing-- it makes my life! I love you all mwah. Okay, now seriously, go read my story and give feedback :)

Repressed memories.

They used to haunt me.

It's not that I didn't remember any of the horrible things that happened to me because the memories that I had certainly caused me enough pain, believe me. However, there were definitely things that I repressed. Most of these didn't surface until I met Derek.

Sometimes it seems completely ridiculous to me that I ever wanted to hurt Derek. He helped me through so much that was going on in my life, with coping with everything from my horrible past—it's a wonder that I even survived my childhood at all. Somewhere along the way I lost track of how much Derek meant to me, how much I needed him. I can't believe that I lost sight of what mattered. I'll be paying for what I did to him for the rest of my life.

--Flashback—

(Several years prior, Shepherd brownstone, NY)

I awoke to the sound of screaming only to discover that I had been the source of the disruption. Embarrassed, I looked around, trying to find Derek. Then, not seeing him in the bed, I starting to panic. I called his name frantically.

Not ten seconds later he came bolting through the bedroom door, concern evident on his face. He held me, just…held me. It was magical.

"What's wrong, Addy?" he asked calmly and soothingly. I was still trying to catch my breath as I had woken up in a state of panic, and thus slapped him in response. After a moment of his confusion and questioning start, I elaborated, now able to breathe normally.

"Where were you, Derek?" He looked down at the floor, blushing ever so slightly.

"I was…doing something." I raised an eyebrow.

"Could you be a little more vague?" I fumed.

"Look, Addy, before you--"

"Derek!" He sighed, clenching his jaw slightly.

"Just let me show you, okay?" I nodded, though slightly confused and still upset. He disappeared out the doorway. I could hear his footsteps descending the stairs, then shuffling around the foyer and kitchen. Exasperated, I glanced at the clock. I groaned.

"Four o'clock already?" I flopped back down onto the bed. My eyes drifted heavily shut, then suddenly I was seized by a vivid, dream-like memory.

Flashback

There was a small red-headed girl, myself. I must have been only about five-years-old. There was a large shadow-like figure approaching. Suddenly, I could see his face clearly. He had thick, hideous eyebrows and huge icy blue eyes. His jaw was set, angular and protruded at an odd angle. I could see the veins protruding from his throat and temples. His hair was shaven close to the scalp, but its dark roots were still visible. He was Caucasian and built up like a body builder. He had tattoos around his arms—I could still see, even in my mind's eye I could discern the tribal bands and random images that littered his skin.

I remembered terror—complete, paralyzing terror. He seized me and threw my crying little body against a wall. He dropped his pants…I could clearly see his erection, it was right in my line of sight. He pushed my pink dress up to my as yet undeveloped chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, or rather my younger self did, and I could literally feel his flesh-tearing thrusts as sobs wracked my small body. He covered my mouth and nose with a large, callused hand. I felt hands on my shoulders…

I was suddenly jolted back to reality.

"Addy?" I heard his voice before I opened my eyes. I whimpered and he pulled me up into a semi-upright position, which was in actuality mostly me lying limply curled up in a ball kind of in his lap. I wrapped my arms desperately around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

For the longest time, he didn't say anything. He just held me and let me cry. Eventually, I pulled away, wiping my eyes hastily.

"Are you okay?" Concern was etched across his features. I hated that I made him worry. I wanted to say that I was fine, but I knew that I wasn't and I really didn't have the energy to fight him about it. I shook my head.

He looked into my eyes and gently cupped the side of my face with his palm.

"Tell me." I blinked.

"What?"

"About your dream. Tell me what happened."

"It was…more like a memory." I mumbled. He continued looking into my eyes sympathetically. My eyes welled with tears and I was suddenly uncomfortable under this scrutiny. I looked away and pushed away from him.

"Addison, you can tell me, it's okay. You're okay." If I had been better rested and more of myself I probably would have yelled at him for patronizing, but I didn't.

"I know…I just…" I stammered.

"It's okay. Whenever you're ready, I'm here. I just need you to know that I'm here." He stood abruptly.

"Don't leave…" I sounded like I was that broken little five-year-old version of myself. I didn't recognize my own voice—it was so small and fragile. I could tell that this scared him, but still he spoke soothingly, delicately.

"I'm not leaving. I'll be back in a minute." My lower lip trembled and he noticed. My behavior made me want to vomit. This was not me, I was not weak, and I was not vulnerable. I was Addison Montgomery-Shepard for crying out loud! He spoke reassuringly and I wanted to punch him.

"Hey, I promise. Not even a minute…twenty seconds, tops." He smiled gently. "It's okay. You'll be okay." I relented, nodding slightly. He kissed my forehead and squeezed my shoulder. "Twenty seconds." He repeated. I smiled so slightly that it was barely visible, but it was there, and he seemed to notice it.

I could hear him in the kitchen again. Sure enough, twenty seconds later he burst back into the room, balancing breakfast precariously on a tray as he entered. Despite my current pained state due to the memory that had just assaulted me, I couldn't help but smile at how adorable her was. He placed the tray down at the foot of the bed gently.

"I told you I'd be back." I picked up a cup of coffee, nursing it mainly to warm my hands.

"Thank you." He rubbed my upper arm lightly. "I think I'm ready."

"Okay." He rested his hands on my knees, running his fingers over my upper thighs gently. "Okay."