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22nd November
6: 30 P.M.
DEREK
He isn't sure how good an idea this was. Maybe he should have insisted she stay at the trailer, relax.
Not that she would have listened to him, but he'd have gotten the satisfaction of saying I told you so later, when she admitted that it was a mistake to come. Which, thinking about it, is probably why they argue so much.
"You look perfect." he reassures her she fidgets with her dress, as he knows he is supposed to do.
"You're just saying that to make me feel better." she mutters, examining her reflection in the shiny elevator door.
"Does it? I might be a little...biased." he smiles, kissing her ear. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but she fights it.
"I love you." she says, impulsively.
"I know."
"Oh, no. Derek, no."
"What he do now?" Bailey asks, rustling up behind them. "Lay off her, Shepherd."
"He's started with the Star Wars quotes." Addison groans. "No one can get him to stop."
"Star Wars?" Bailey asks, eyes glinting. "I love Star Wars."
Addison sighs in defeat.
"You don't like Star Wars!" Bailey accuses loudly, as the doors open with a ding. "How is it that -"
"She loves Star Wars." he laughs, enjoying the expression on the unhurt side of Addison's face.
"I spent my whole senior prom listening to my date talk about Star Wars." Addison sighs. "So now he's going to do this all night long."
"He won't last an hour." Bailey scoffs. "I bet you."
"I find your lack of faith disturbing." he says coldly, making Bailey whoop with delight and Addison smile grudgingly.
"You sure you want to do this?" he asks, taking Addison's hand as they step off the elevator. The lobby of the surgical wing seems to have been decorated with copious amounts of balloons and streamers, and he can hear a lot of adolescent shrieking going on above the music, appropriately muted to suit the fact that this basically a giant party in a hospital.
She flinches a little when he touches her back.
"Did you take the painkillers Callie gave you?" he asks, frowning. She stares at him for a moment, her eyes wide, but seems to think better of it and just nods.
7: 00 P.M.
RICHARD
The last thing he wants to be doing is attending a prom, but he promised Camille - and Adele - and backing out would be worse than actually going to the damn thing.
So they're having a party, while a young mother lies dead in the morgue, her husband sobs over their child's incubator and one of his prize surgeons walks around looking like she was in a barfight.
He takes Addison aside for a moment when he sees her come in with Derek - they look very ...married, that should make Adele happy - and clears his throat.
"I'm not pressing charges." she rolls her eyes. "Although I'm a little insulted you thought I would."
"You would be well within your rights." he says, relieved. "But considering the situation -"
"I wouldn't have, anyway." she says. "He's grieving. And I probably deserved -"
"Don't let me hear you say that again." he says sternly. " You most certainly did not-"
"What are you chatting about?" Derek asks, looking almost at ease in a roomful of screaming, bobbing teenagers.
"Just the Garvey case." he says, accepting one of the plastic cups Derek hands him and Addison.
"Oh, yeah, has Jennings come to his senses yet? Addie, you should make him apologise."
"It's fine." he says quickly, before Addison can open her mouth. "With a little luck, it will all blow over by tomorrow."
"In my experience there is no such thing as luck." Derek says. Addison groans.
HAHN
Dancing. There is dancing, and since Richard forbade Callie from spiking the punch - too many underage kids - there's nothing to numb the pain.
"Come on," Callie calls. "Join us."
"I'm okay right here." she yells back. "You go ahead."
Callie shrugs, then heads into the crowd, disappearing.
She wonders what Preston would have thought of this. He'd probably have had to come, maybe with his intern...Yang. Yes, that's it. Yang.
She spots one of the other interns, the small blonde one, dancing with a man she hasn't seen around the hospital before, but the others are nowhere to be seen, not that insolent little Karev or the overly emotional Stevens.
She can see Derek and Addison Shepherd too, slow dancing like a pair of fools. She can't tell if it's just jealousy or she actually hates them.
"Erica." Richard smiles, sliding into a chair at her empty table. "Glad to see you made it."
"Stop hiding at my table." she replies.
"I am exhausted." he sighs. "There's a reason proms are for teenagers only."
"Well, your niece looks happy." she smiles, looking at the girl. She's dancing with some boy, all starry eyed and young and...
"She's happy." Richard repeats, his eyes misting over. "That's what matters."
Oh crap. The man cannot start crying at her table.
"What about the Garvey thing?" she asks, to get him off the topic.
"Addison's letting it go, but the board - well, Jennings - is making a big deal about it. Turns out Mr. Garvey is some sort of media mogul, and he's demanding an investigation. And the board is playing along, you know how it is. They've all got dollar bills taped over their eyes."
She's suddenly very grateful to Seattle Presbyterian for being as stultifyingly boring and devoid of drama as it is.
"What kind of investigation?"
"Autopsy, but that's normal - Garvey had Addison pulled off his daughter's case."
"Why? Does he want the kid to die?"
Richard snorts. "I hope she pulls through."
8: 00 P.M.
ADDISON
She wouldn't mind if this never ended. She could stay here forever, Derek's arms comforting and warm around her, his eyes so soft she could just melt. Everything else, the secrets and the infidelity and the lying and the cheating and Mark and Meredith and dead patients...it all fades into the background.
"I think we've made enough of an appearance." Derek murmurs, his fingers tightening over hers. "How about we take this home?"
"Just a little longer." she reminds him. "Autopsy, remember?"
"Way to kill the mood, Addie." he says, but he's smiling.
"This has been a way better experience than my senior prom." she confesses. "You're a better dancer than Skippy."
"Better looking, too."
"You never even knew Skippy."
"He let you go, which is enough to prove he's probably an imbecile." he says grumpily.
"He kind of was." she laughs. Meredith Grey sways by them, with someone she doesn't remember seeing before.
"Apparently people date people who don't work at this hospital." she says.
"What a novel concept." Derek says, tugging at the ends of her painstakingly arranged hair. "I never thought of doing that."
"You haven't dated since college."
"And whose fault is that?" he grins, leaning forward to capture her lips. And draws back, looking confused.
"The pager." she points to his vibrating pocket. "It's your pager."
"Yours." he says, checking.
"I don't have any patients who -" She feels the blood rush to her head as she reads the small screen. "I have to go. NICU."
She only realises he's following her when she's halfway down a deserted corridor, trying to walk as fast as she can in her shoes.
"What are you doing?" he demands. "Addison, you can't, you're not on that case anymore."
"Who said I'm doing anything?" she fires back, stabbing at the call button. "I'm just going to go see."
"Oh, so you're just going to stand there."
"I am."
"Don't get yourself into more trouble." he says.
"Oh, so you think I'm in trouble?"
DEREK
He knows he's made a mistake as soon as he says it. She catches it - of course she does - and the laughter fades from her eyes instantly.
He's half convinced himself that what Larry said was a joke. He wants to believe that it was a joke. He wmats to believe that they will wake up tomorrow and everything will be on its way to being perfect.
He feels like them again. Like they used to be, before Mark. Before Meredith. He cares.
"Of course not." he says quickly, following her into the elevator. "I didn't mean it that way."
"What happened?" Addison demands of a young intern standing by the doors of the NICU, clearly waiting for them.
"Her saturation keeps falling." the intern stutters, his face slick with sweat. "I...I tried everything but I couldn't -"
"Why didn't you call a grown up?" he asks frustratedly as he and Addison wrap themselves in papery pink gowns. He hates this, doesn't know how Addison stands it. Her patients are always heartbreakingly tiny, worryingly sick and short on time.
"The attending got called out to a delivery at some private practice and the resident isn't here, he took a patient to Radiology -"
"Did you give her surfactant?" Addison asks, stealing the stethoscope around the interns neck. "When they brought her in from the OR, did she get steroids?"
"I...I don't know."
"Check the chart." he and Addison both bellow.
"Interns." he mutters; Addison doesn't reply, just looks grim.
"What?"
"I'm intubating her."
"She's already on CPAP," he says, realising where this is going. "You don't need to."
"She's already at eighty five, Derek, she's going to end up with CP or - check her glucose."
"What?" the intern asks, wide eyed. "Oh. Right."
There's an awkward moment of fumbling, an irritated inhale from Addison, before they are informed that the baby is indeed hypoglycemic.
"Do something about that." Addison snaps, taking a deep breath to control herself. "I should have seen this coming, hyperinsulinemia is -"
"You are not supposed to be here." he hisses, seizing her elbow. "Leave. Before someone sees you."
"I can't -"
RICHARD
"What the hell?" he demands. He's met with Derek, clutching Addison, a babyfaced intern clearly struggling, and the realisation that once again things are out of control.
"I was paged." Addison blurts. "I got a page and the intern was here all by himself."
"It says she's the primary on this case." the intern says defensively. "Respectfully, sir."
"She was." he says. "Do not page Dr. Shepherd for this case after this, are we clear?"
"Yessir."
"Get out." he snaps at Addison.
"Richard, she can't breathe." Addison protests. "Please, please let me -"
"What the hell is she doing here?" Matthew yells from the doorway way, advancing toward them. Derek steps in front of Addison, his face set.
"What did you do to my baby." Matthew snarls. His knuckles are still swollen, wrapped in an elastic bandage. "You just manage to screw everything up, don't you - or is it on purpose?"
"She's helping." Derek says scathingly. "She just saved your daughter's life."
"Who are you?"
"Gentlemen." he says hastily. "Outside, please. Now."
There's a barrage of nurses pouring into the room, alerted by the yelling. Most of the babies are too small to cry, or ventilated, but the stress can't be good for them.
Addison takes a nurse aside, stands behind her as she intubates the tiny infant. Matthew stands staring, his hands shaking.
"I didn't touch her." Addison says quietly. "She's all right now, Matthew."
"Get away from her." Matthew pants.
"Of course." She steps away, nudging the nurse closer. "This is Molly. She'll stay with your baby tonight, okay? She's on a breathing machine now. She's strong, she's a fighter -"
"Addie, that's enough." Derek mutters. "Let's go."
Matthew stands aside as they walk out, unable to meet their eyes.
"If I see you near that child again -" he starts outside, but Addison holds up a trembling hand.
"You won't."
"Good." he spits. "Because you're digging yourself in deeper."
8: 30 P.M.
DEREK
"Stop following me." she chokes.
"Addison, wait." He just makes through the doors of the exam room before she slams it shut.
"What is wrong with you?" she yells. "Just - back off."
"I'm your husband." he says evenly. "It's my job to not back off."
"It's my job not to let that baby die." she hurls back. "It's my job to make sure she gets through as safely as possible."
"You could lose your job." he yells. "Do you understand that? Do you realise how unstable that man is? What he could have done to you?"
"I can take care of myself." she says bitterly.
"Like hell you can."
"Don't -"
"You asked me to care." he says. "You said you wanted me to care. This is me, caring."
"I killed that man's wife." she says, turning around in a fury of to face him. "That baby has no mother. That woman is about to have her organs cut out downstairs, because of a mistake I made. Don't tell me to step away from this."
"You think I don't understand? That I don't know how you feel?" he asks. "Addison, I've been where you are right now and I know it's -"
"Horrible." she sobs, her voice breaking. "It's horrible."
"I know." he whispers, letting her lean against him. "I know."
9: 00 P.M.
CALLIE
"This is actually pretty fun." Hahn says. She looks almost...pretty, smiling, relaxed.
"See?" she beams. "Told you."
"You - is that your pager?"
"Dammit." she mutters. "Oh my god."
"Emergency?"
"Sort - hey. You're cardio."
"Last I checked."
"Come on." She grabs Erica's hand, yanking the surprised woman with her. "We need you."
ERICA
"When was his transplant?"
"Week ago." Yang says. The rest of the interns look dazed. The smarmy one, Karev, he looks pained, kneeling by the side of the sobbing blonde one.
"Burke did it?" she asks. "The transplant?"
"Yeah." Yang says.
"Any preoperative complications?" she asks. The guy was dead before she got here - but she likes to be thorough.
"He -" Yang falters. "He was on an LVAD."
"LVAD...wait." she says, realisation dawning. "This is...this the heart Preston took,.the one meant for my patient at Seattle Pres, and now this man is dead? How the hell -"
"Erica, not now." Richard says sternly. "In my office."
Callie comes in with the Shepherds, both looking oddly flushed.
"Well, that puts an end to the evening." Addison remarks. The strap of her dress is askew. Callie pulls it back into place.
ADDISON
"Dr. Shepherd?"
They both turn around. It's a resident, dressed in the gray scrubs they wear in the pathology department. He points to her, not Derek.
"Dr. Nielsen sent me." he says. "He wants you to come see him?"
"Tomorrow." Derek says.
"No, now."
"I'll just be a minute." she says, pattimg his hand. "I missed the autopsy."
"I forgot about that." Derek says, running a hand through his hair. "Let's go."
...
She's never really liked the pathology department. Not the subject, just the environment. It seems like every path lab of her career has been located in a slightly dingy basement, the soulless fluorescents overhead emitting that hissing noise, the tiled floors reeking of disinfectant, narrow tables crowded in small rooms.
"I hate this smell." Derek grumbles as they enter the autopsy room.
"We have gowns if you want them." Dr. Nielsen calls to them. He's standing at the only occupied steel table, bathed in the overhead light. The body - Melanie, she reminds herself - is covered from the waist down with a sheet, but she can see the thick black sutures holding the Y incision closed.
"Initial blood reports came back." the pathologist says, speaking fast. "Just now, in fact. No one except me has seen them yet. I ran them myself. Just me."
"O...kay?"
"Just me." Nielsen confirms. "There were lethal concentrations of insulin in her blood. I analysed it, and it was U500. I don't even know if the pharmacy carries that here, since U100 is the standard concentration."
"What?" she splutters. "It's not possible, I swear -"
"I'm going home now." the old pathologist says kindly. "It's late. I'll put the reports into the system tomorrow morning, I'm very tired tonight. I suggest you...make use of that time. Good night, Dr. Shepherd."
I promise things will pick up pace in the next chapter...until then, please please please review!
