AN: Okay. So I've since proven that only a handful of people are still reading this story. But I still appreciate it. Thank you for the reviews! I promise to finish this story, I really do.

That said, I didn't do too bad with this update, right? It took me less than a week? Haha. At any rate, please read and I hope you enjoy!

- I still do not own anything.


She was bound tightly by the hands, her eyes watering as she watched Tracy, one of the girls with her, being led to a room adjacent to where they were, the doors locking behind her. She couldn't bring herself to look, and tried to muffle out the sounds of Tracy's screaming, her pleading. It was too much, but she knew she couldn't react because that could mean the end of both their lives.

Although their attackers promised not kill anyone, it was hard to take their word for it. So she tried to comfort herself by shutting her eyes tight, and humming a happy song to herself while forcing her brain to concentrate on anything but the desperate cries from Tracy's direction.

The tears fell hotly down her cheeks, and she could feel the tension in the room as the other girls struggled to keep quiet amid the hysteria. She would never know for sure what happened behind those doors, and it was something she should have been grateful for. But she couldn't find the ray of light or hope in the situation she was in. Not yet, at least. All the girls around her had been tortured one way or another, and she was being spared because their attackers didn't want to kill anybody.

She almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. Here were some insane men kidnapping all these women, locking them up in a basement, keeping them for years and years, and then torturing them, but not wanting to kill them. They would always make sure the women were properly fed, but behind those doors, Addison could only shudder at her imagination's workings. She didn't know what these men wanted, or what sort of satisfaction they got from watching these women be hurt. But Addison was there for a reason. She had been tracked down, apparently, for two months even before she was kidnapped. They needed a doctor. They needed someone to make sure that these women were unharmed, or were at least able to heal, and they wanted Addison to ensure that.

For that reason, Addison was spared the gory happenings behind the door, but she watched as these women emerged beaten up and sore, and then allowed to recuperate, and then beaten up again, dampening their soul. Addison watched and it left an indelible mark in her very being. Because that was all she was able to do—watch. She would watch but be unable to help them until after. She would be unable to prevent anything lest she risk being hurt herself, and that wasn't something she was willing to participate in.

So she did her best, even if it meant her tears falling hotly down her cheeks as she tended to these women. She cherished the hour or so that the men would keep her hands unbound in order to care for them, and then she'd be treated just as roughly after.

Addison didn't understand, didn't even try to comprehend how these men could just pluck them out of society as if they were playing some sick joke. And in a way, that was just it. Everything to them was a sick joke. Because after a couple of years, they'd help you track your family down and let you go, just like that. It was crazy, and it was stupid, and Addison could feel the hatred coursing through her body every single minute of the past seven years of her life.

She had lost seven years. Seven years as a doctor. Seven years as a daughter. Seven years a person. But what she didn't realize then was that she not only lost seven years as a wife, but that in those seven years, she had also managed to lose her husband.

Addison shot up in bed, her body glistening with sweat as she tried to comprehend her surroundings. She was in her hotel, but for a moment, she thought she was back in the basement, watching as yet another girl was taken to the back room. She shook her head, trying to rid her memory of the image, and in doing so hoping to calm her breathing down.

She couldn't come into terms with it. There were so many emotions—confusion, pain, disbelief, but more importantly—anger. She was angry. But she couldn't quite be sure if she was angry for losing seven years of her life, or for the sick pleasure the men found in torturing women, or for the fact that there was nothing normal to come back to after her release. Nothing in this whole situation was right, and Addison knew that full well.

Sighing, she squinted to check the time and realized it was 4:30 in the morning. She knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, so she slipped out of bed and turned the lights on. Immediately, the light flooded the room and she allowed her eyes a moment to adjust to her surroundings.

It's been a week since her talk with Derek. She'll never admit it, but the idea of losing him scared her. What scared her more, though, was that she knew losing him was the "right thing to do". She refused to make him choose between her and a baby—that was just entirely out of the question. But she needed him. She needed him so she could heal.

With another sigh, Addison trudged back to the bed and lifted her pillow to retrieve her mobile phone. It was 4:30 in the morning, but she didn't care. She was going to wake up whoever the hell she wanted to.

Taking her robe, she wrapped it around herself and pulled the key card from the slot and exited the room, knocking quietly on the door next to her's. Her parents had finally flown to Seattle—the day after her talk with Derek. She didn't know how long they were going to stay, but she was happy they were here.

After a while, she heard shuffling from behind the door and waited patiently for it to open. When it did, she saw her dad squinting to get a good look at her. She had obviously woken him up.

"Addie?" he questioned, pulling the door a little wider to step out to the hall. Bizzy was asleep and he didn't want to wake her.

Addison smiled up at him sheepishly. "Sorry to wake you up, Dad."

Anthony shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Is everything alright?"

She nodded, and then looked to her feet. She was shifting in place, and Anthony understood. He took one last look at his sleeping wife before he closed the door and led Addison back to her room.

Once inside, he closed the door and then turned around to see Addison settling herself on the plush couch. He smiled slightly and sat opposite her on the couch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.

Addison shook her head no. She didn't want to talk about it. She just wanted to forget.

"Okay."

Anthony sensed Addison just didn't want to be alone, and needed the company more than the conversation. So he contented himself just studying Addison's features. She was thin, that was for sure, and she had yet to fully rest because she didn't look her age. She looked a bit older than she really was, and her eyes were weary and sad. But as a father, he could only do so much. He was working hard in order to track down whoever did this to Addison, but he knew that that was just one half of the equation. The other half, of course, was in Derek and Addison's relationship. He knew Addison was hurting over it just as much if not more than the very act of being taken away from her husband. He could only imagine how painful it was for his daughter to come back with the bitter realization and disappointment over her husband finding another woman.

That in itself didn't sit well with Anthony, but he kept mum because they all dealt with Addison's disappearance differently. Archer started drinking more, Bizzy started talking less, often staring listlessly into space, and Derek… well… he needed a woman in his bed.

No. That was unfair though. Derek needed to get out of bed in the morning. And if it weren't for Meredith, Derek probably would have killed himself in between those seven years. It was because of Meredith that Addison still had Derek now, whether they were in a stable relationship or not.

"Dad?" she asked, looking up to meet her father's expectant gaze.

"Yeah, Addie-bee?"

She sighed, bringing her knees close to her chest. "Why is it so hard?" she whispered. "It's not supposed to be this hard."

Anthony looked at her sympathetically, his heart aching to ease her pain. But her turmoil was within, and it wasn't something he could merely reach out and grab.

"I know, honey. But it'll get better."

"When?" she asked forcibly. "When is it going to get better? Because I really need a break here."

"In time," he answered.

But the answer didn't satisfy Addison. So instead of responding, Addison stood up and grabbed herself a wine glass and poured some wine. She ignored her father's worried glance and gulped down the contents before she refilled it. Once it was filled to the brim, she took both the bottle and her glass back to the couch, resuming her earlier position.

Anthony sighed disapprovingly, staring as his daughter raised the glass to her lips, taking small sips.

"I need it to be better now, Dad."

"Yes, well. Things aren't going to get better with you drinking a whole bottle of alcohol at 4 in the morning," he said earnestly, not able to help the disapproval in his tone.

Addison merely shrugged, her desperation slowly creeping in. "I don't want to be this girl, Dad."

"Honey—"

"I used to proud. I used to never let anyone walk over me, and I refused to be anyone's leftovers. But I can't even find it in myself to be the bigger person and walk the fuck away."

"Addie, that's understandable. You're fighting for your husband, for your marriage. It's not easy to walk away from a marriage."

"Yes, but look at me. I'm still here, waiting for him to decide. He got Meredith knocked up, and I'm still waiting if he's going to choose me or not. I hate that. I'm so pathetic."

Anthony looked at her sharply. "Addison Adrienne, you are not pathetic," he said firmly, refusing to allow his daughter to wallow in self-pity, but also not taking kindly to her being her own monster.

On any other occasion, Addison would've smiled at the way her father used both her names. But it wasn't the occasion for anything anymore—nothing save for alcohol and broken promises.

"Look, honey. I know things are hard, but everything is a choice. You have the choice to be all mopey about the situation, or take matters into your own hands and be strong. It's your choice. How you react is still your choice."

Addison frowned. "That's not a very easy choice," she admitted. "It's so easy to be weak and just give up."

"But you wouldn't be Addison if you weren't a fighter," he reminded.

She nodded slowly, acquiescing. Her father made a point. She was coerced into the situation, but it was still her choice if she wanted to run for the hills, stay and fight, or just be indifferent. It was just that at the moment, she didn't know which choice sounded most appealing.

"I suppose you're right."

Anthony grinned. "I'm always right."

She chuckled. "Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, honey." He looked at her thoughtfully, and nodded to himself. "Now, why don't you go back to sleep," he suggested, standing up and taking the wine glass from Addison's hands. He walked to the bathroom and threw the contents into the sink, returning to take the bottle away as well.

"There's no use being an alcoholic, Addie."

Addison nodded and stood up, hugging her father. Anthony held her close, kissed the top of her head and stroked her red hair.

"Try to get more sleep," he said, and then waited until Addison agreed and sat on the edge of the bed. He smiled at her and them moved to the door.

"Sorry for waking you up, Dad."

He shook his head and then left, closing the door with a quiet click.

She threw a quick glance at the clock and saw that it was still way too early. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so she stood up again and went out of the room. She made her way to the elevator.

It was honestly too early, and she cursed her body clock and her nightmares for taking away the precious amount of sleep she needed. But there was nothing to be done about that now, she thought, before she stepped into the elevator and pressed 5. The elevator moved down, and when it opened, she stepped off, turned left, and knocked on the first door.

"Come on Mark," she whispered, resting her forehead on the door as she waited for an answer.

This was a really bad habit—waking people up at an ungodly hour. But she shrugged off the guilt for now. Before long, the door opened to reveal a highly disheveled Mark, staring at her unbelievingly.

"You do realize what time it is, right?" he asked, pulling his boxers up a bit.

Addison chuckled. "Sorry. You look like you had a lot of fun last night," she said, noticing how Mark turned slightly red. "Can I come in, or am I disturbing anything?"

Seeing Addison's smirk, Mark rolled his eyes and stepped aside to let her in.

"For your information, I'm not stupid enough to screw someone in this hotel, seeing as you have an uncanny ability to wake up at all hours of the night and disturbing other people's precious sleep."

"Sorry. I just didn't want to be alone," she stated honestly, perching herself on the edge of his bed.

Mark nodded and sat down beside her, feeling the bed droop just a bit with the added weight.

"You okay?"

Addison shrugged.

"More nightmares?"

She shrugged again, shaking her head and staring at the carpet.

Mark sighed. "You really need to talk to someone about all of this, Adds. You can't keep it all in."

Addison looked up and met his gaze. "Will you listen to me?"

Mark was taken aback. Would he listen to her? Of course he would! But at the moment, he didn't think he was the right person for her to come to. He felt like he was betraying Derek by being the one Addison was confiding in. And moreover, whatever Addison would tell him should surely be kept between the two of them only. That was going to put Mark in a compromising position, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be in the middle of Addison and Derek's problems. But he knew he had no other choice. He cared about Addison deeply, and if listening to her meant putting him dangerously close to his two best friends' issues, then so be it.

"You know I will," he responded, turning his body to her to silently urge her. He was trying to be encouraging, and his face was etched with attentiveness that Addison had to sigh a bit.

"Where should I start?" she asked, pulling her legs up Indian style and then grabbing one of Mark's pillows to hug tightly.

"Wherever you want to," he answered earnestly, also grabbing a pillow and laying on his belly.

Addison shrugged, getting comfortable on Mark's bed. "I don't really want to talk about… you know… the very reason we're in a city that never stops raining."

Mark had to laugh at this, Addison's dry humor not lost on him.

"I need Derek to be the first one to know about that. But I can't talk to Derek now because there's a whole other issue that's stopping me from doing so."

"You mean the baby?"

Exasperatedly, she exclaimed, "Yes! Exactly! I mean, I don't even know how I'm supposed to react to this whole baby drama thing."

"Well…" Mark shifted uncomfortably. Heart to heart talks really weren't his area of expertise, but he was trying. "How do you feel about it?"

Addison shrugged. She didn't know how she felt exactly.

"Okay, so maybe you don't know how you feel about the baby. But how do you feel about Derek? The last time we talked, you were pushing him away. And now… I don't know… are you being needy all of a sudden?"

Her eyes flashed incredulously. "Excuse me, I am not needy," she stated firmly.

"I'm just saying."

"Well I'm not being needy," she said again. "Besides, I don't think it's out of bounds for me to want to be with my husband."

"You're right, it's not."

She sighed again, unable to express how she felt. The frustration was ebbing in, and she was desperate to hold on to the least amount of sanity she had, considering it was four in the morning and she barely had any sleep.

"You know what, never mind. Let's not talk about that."

He furrowed his brow in confusion. God, women could be so complicated sometimes. And Addison, even if she was his best friend, wasn't excluded from that generalization. He watched as Addison got up and started pacing in a way that made Mark a little scared.

"Addie?" he questioned, sitting upright on the bed, his eyes watching her intently.

"Let's not talk about that. I don't want to be reminded of it every single time. So let's talk about something neutral," she stated, her fingers running through her hair in a moment of panic.

Mark sighed. "Okay? What do you want to talk about then?" He glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearing five in the morning.

Addison stopped with her pacing and stared at Mark. "Let's talk about surgery. Medicine. Let's talk about medicine. Tell me all about your cases, quiz me about the basics, tell me anything, I don't care. Just talk to me about medicine."

Mark could see the fire behind Addison's eyes, and it was meddled with confusion, and he didn't like it. So for her sake and his, he tried to think of something medicine related. He was sure this was conversation was going to lead to Addison being more resolute about wanting to go back to work. In all honesty, he thought about the situation and he realized that to some extent, it would be healthy for Addison. She needed something constant—something to firmly hold on to, and medicine was just that.

Sighing, he said, "Female patient X presents with persistent nausea and vomiting, dehydration and faintness. Patient is pregnant, 12 weeks along, but is experiencing severe weight loss."

Addison looked thoughtful for a moment, and then smiled, her confidence renewed. This was why she was the best. "Hyperemesis Gravidarum."

A silly grin spread on to Mark's face and he held his hand up for Addison to high five. She did so, and then they both laughed lightly, before Mark continued on with his hypothetic case presentations.

Somewhere between five and six thirty in the morning, Addison had shyly asked Mark again about the possibility of going back to work. She had sounded the idea off to Richard the week prior, but nothing was definite. And quite frankly, she didn't think the Chief was taking her very seriously then. She wondered if Mark would change his opinion if she was able to prove to him that she was still Dr. Addison Shepherd.

And then between six thirty and seven in the morning, both of them holding a steaming cup of coffee delivered by room service, Addison had convinced Mark to conditionally help her out with the Chief. She needed some convincing power, so she was going to take Mark with her for good measure.

Five hours later found Mark and Addison walking side by side towards the Chief's office at Seattle Grace. Addison was dressed in a yellow skirt with a black top, and black peep-toe Louboutins. Her right hand was holding on to a steaming cup of juju, and she laughed lightly at Mark's joke.

"Okay, try this one. Patient Y presents with clumsiness—"

"Clumsiness?"

Mark nodded. "Yes, clumsiness, muscle weakness and difficulty walking."

Addison raised a brow at him. "That can be a number of things, but this is obviously neuro."

He nodded again, taking a sip of his own juju as he matched Addison's stride.

"Is there any feeling in his limbs?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "Numbness in the arms and legs. Oh, and he seizes, too."

Addison rolled her eyes. "Thanks a lot, Mark. I kind of already knew he was seizing."

He put his hand on her lower back, guiding her on to the elevator, laughing. "Sorry."

"Any other symptoms you failed to mention, Dr. Sloan?"

Mark thought about for a moment. "Nystagmus and mental retardation," he replied, watching Addison's eyes light up with recognition.

She smiled triumphantly at him, already knowing the answer. "Giant Axonal Neuropathy," she stated surely, grinning up at him cheekily.

"I was so sure you weren't gonna get that," he said, ignoring the looks they were getting from the people in the elevator.

Addison shrugged. "I'm married to a neurosurgeon. We trade cases." She paused for a while, taking a sip of her juju. "Ask me about treatment."

"Okay, how is it treated?" he asked as they stepped off the elevator and turned right to the chief's office.

"Giant Axonal Neuropathy is symptomatic, which means you can't really treat it. If you do, the goal is simply to maximize physical and intellectual development."

Before Mark could answer, Derek came out of nowhere and matched their pace perfectly. He had just come from an early morning consult, and saw Mark and Addison step off the elevator as he was rounding the corner.

"You forgot that treatment is also to minimize deterioration of the neurons so they don't lose sensation too quickly," Derek said, smiling, before he kissed Addison on cheek. The contact was maybe slightly strained, but it was meaningful nonetheless.

Addison smiled up at him and offered him her juju. He took it gratefully, flashing her a grin.

"Good morning, Derek," Addison greeted, watching Derek take a sip of the steaming hot cocoa.

"Morning," he answered. "Morning, Mark."

"Good morning," Mark answered, rolling his eyes at the way the couple shared the juju. He never liked sharing his food, and watching Addison and Derek drink from the same cup seemed all too cheesy for him.

Derek returned the cup after another sip and then proceeded to lay his hand on the small of Addison's back. It was a possessive gesture that was meant to reassure not just Addison, but himself as well.

"Where are you guys headed to?" he asked, shifting the chart he was holding in his other hand.

"Chief," Mark answered curtly, downing the last of his juju before crumpling the cup in his hand. Addison only nodded mutely.

"Well, I have to go see a patient. But if you're both free for lunch…" he trailed off, his offer already understood.

"We'll meet you for lunch," Mark said, glancing at Addison, who only nodded in the affirmative. Addison hadn't discussed the whole matter of going back to work with Derek, and Mark didn't want to an argument to pop out of nowhere, especially since Addison had yet to make it official.

There were still doubts in Mark's head about Addison's readiness for work, but he knew Addison needed it, and he told that morning he'd think about what he'd tell Richard. He didn't make any promise, and she didn't want him to lie to the Chief, but she needed Mark with him if only to make her case stronger.

Derek smiled slightly, knowing that the encounter was slightly strained. "Great, I'll see you later then," he answered before proceeding to kiss Addison on the forehead and walking off to his patient.

Things definitely needed a big boost between him and Addison. And he was going to have to settle things with her soon.

Mark and Addison spent the rest of the walk to the chief's office in silence. When they had arrived, Mark pushed the door open for Addie, letting her in with a small smile to Patricia, Richard's secretary.

Richard looked up from his desk, and immediately, a smile spread on his face.

"Well if it isn't my favorite Shepherd," he greeted, standing up from behind his desk and pulling his glasses off.

Addison had to shake her head, but she was laughing just the same as she made her way toward him. Richard enveloped her in a fatherly hug, rubbing her back encouragingly.

"You need to eat more," he stated, squeezing Addison's arms as if to emphasize his point.

"I'm eating," she argued defensively, her hands up as if in surrender.

Richard looked at her disbelievingly before stepping out of Addison's personal space to shake Mark's hand.

"At any rate, I'll have to take you to see Adele. She'll feed you until you're ready to be roasted," he chuckled, remembering that Addison loved Adele's seafood casserole, and that Adele knew Addison loved her crème brulee.

The chief motioned for them to take a seat, and they did so. The chairs were lofty and sort of reminded Addison of her futon couch back in New York. The couch was ugly, but it was incredibly comfortable.

"To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?" he asked, watching Addison intently. He knew Addison was struggling. He knew Addison was in a really difficult situation. And if there was anything he could do to help, he would. He also knew that Addison was thinking very seriously about returning to work. He wouldn't deny it—he had put the idea into her head so soon after she returned. It only blossomed into a full-grown resolution when Addison realized she needed a distraction.

There was no doubt in the Chief's mind, however, that despite Addison current situation, she was still a competent doctor. But he wasn't going to force that on her, at least not yet. That, and he didn't want her to do it just because. There were things to be considered, and he knew that Addison had to be evaluated, first and foremost, and then that there was protocol to be followed. He wasn't sure what the protocol was exactly for hiring someone who'd gone missing for seven years, but he was going to find out and make sure it was fulfilled seamlessly.

"We talked about this last week and I've decided I really, seriously, want to go back t owork," Addison stated, straight to the point. "If you want me to go to a therapist and get cleared, I'll do that. But I'm taking up your previous offer and I want to work. I'm going crazy at home."

Richard raised a brow at her. As the chief, had no qualms over hiring Addison at once. But he was her friend, too, and he needed to make sure she was ready for it.

"Are you sure, Addie? You don't think it's too soon?" He sat back in his chair, his back resting on the rest behind him, studying Addison intently.

She shrugged. "If I don't do this now, I'm never gonna be able to do it. Now is a good a time as any."

In her head, she was pleading, silently begging for Richard to take her seriously. She knew that when Richard had offered her a position before, he wasn't thinking she'd take the offer so soon. She also knew that when she had broached the topic a week prior, Richard wasn't expecting her to make a life-changing decision without properly taking into account all considerations.

Richard studied her for a moment, as if trying to gage if this was really Addison speaking, or her emotions. But he could see the tenacity in Addison's demeanor, recognized the competence and the confidence, and knew for sure Addison was still the highly skilled doctor she used to be.

When he didn't say anything at first, Addison continued, all the while trying to convince Richard. "I'll get clearance from a psychiatrist. I'll go to therapy sessions. You don't even need to get me into surgery all at once—just consults. But please, pluck me out of my misery and put me right to work."

"Does Derek know about this?" he asked, knitting his brow slightly.

Addison was not to be deterred. "I may have broached the topic once or twice."

"And did he actually agree?" he asked again, his brows now raising. He knew that Derek was protective, and certainly wouldn't approve of this. And if Derek found out that he had willfully allowed Addison to work, Derek would have his head for sure.

She sighed, looking directly into the Chief's eyes. "Richard, as far as I'm concerned, Derek only has so much to say. He's technically married to someone else, and has no say in my decisions. And though that's not to say that I'm indifferent and I could care less if Derek and I get back together permanently, he really has too much on his plate to think about something as mundane as me going back to work."

The chief turned his attention to Mark. "What do you think, Dr. Sloan?" Certainly going back to work wasn't mundane.

Mark sat up straighter in his chair. He met Addison's gaze for a brief second before he let out a small sigh. He had thought about this answer well, and he had carefully phrased it in his head.

"I think Addison is a competent doctor, and I'm not just saying that because I'm her friend," he paused. "I really believe Addison is skilled will be able to fulfill what needs to be fulfilled as a doctor. As with all other doctors, our personal lives take a backseat, and I think that's something to consider."

Addison smiled appreciatively at Mark before turning back to the chief. Mark returned the gesture and nodded at her encouragingly.

Richard sighed, knowing Mark had a point. If Derek was two million dollars a year, Addison was worth almost twice as much. If he thought Derek could put Seattle Grace on the map, he knew for sure Addison would make Seattle Grace's prestige known the world over. Addison was a force to be reckoned with in the medical world, and that doesn't just go away because she went through some emotional trauma (regardless of how big this trauma might be).

There was a momentary pause as both Addison and Mark waited for the Chief to make a decision. It wasn't strictly a business decision, per se, for the Chief knew the consequences of hiring Addison. But if ever he agreed to hiring her, it wouldn't be because it would make more money for him, but because he wanted to help a friend.

Addison needed this, and he knew that. It also wouldn't hurt to him to have the infamous Shepherd pair under his belt, too.

"Alright," he relented finally, looking at Addison square in the eyes. "I'll get Patricia to draw up a contract for you," he stated, making a mental note to check with the Board about protocol.

From across him, Addison smiled gratefully at him. Had she not been Addison Shepherd, she probably would have squealed with delight. But she was who she was, so she settled for a sigh of relief.

If there was anything she was most confident with, it was her skill as a surgeon, as a doctor. Never mind the crap she had been through, she was the best in her field and she knew it—and she intended to use that skill as best she could.

Standing up, she hurried over to Richard and gave him and embraced him appreciatively. She buried her face in his chest in the way she had done when she first saw her own father after seven years.

"Thank you, Richard," she said earnestly, the gratitude in her tone not lost on the Chief.

The Chief smiled down at her. "Welcome to the team, Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd."

God, it felt great to be Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd again.


Like it? Hate it? Do let me know. The next chapter has already been written so don't worry about me taking too long a time to update. Thank you for reading! No, really. THANK YOU for reading. :)