Nicole's A/N: Hi, readers! We're back to post the rest of the story (now that the majority is written). This story will be 18 chapters in total + an epilogue. My goal is to update every Sunday until it's complete, so that should take us to January 22, 2017. So, watch your inboxes (or Twitter) for the next several Sundays! Happy reading.


Chapter 12


"I swear to God, Derek, if you walk out that door … "

"What? You'll leave me?" Derek yelled at his wife. "You get to do whatever you want, Addie. What about me?"

"We've had this getaway planned for months, Derek! Sam and Naomi are counting on us. It's supposed to be just the four of us, and it's our only weekend off until God knows when. You can't go to a conference on our weekend off."

"I'm going," Derek said, "and you're not stopping me." He grabbed his briefcase and stormed out the door.

He heard Addison screaming behind him, "I'm never going to forgive you for this, Derek!"

Derek woke to Addison's voice ringing in his ears. It was another of the series of nightmares that had been tormenting him for months.

He looked around the desolate lab. Once again, he had fallen asleep after a late night of researching alone in his office. He hated going back to his empty apartment, so he found himself spending most nights alone in his lab or office. It was peaceful at the NIH at night when most of his colleagues were home with their families, and he found he could get more done when he was alone.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. The clock on the wall told him it was four in the morning. He anticipated Zola, who now regularly called when she had a nightmare in the middle of the night. He never complained. Derek was grateful to be able to comfort his daughter with so much land between them. He just wished he could hold her in his arms.

Except it wasn't Zola calling him. It was Meredith.

Meredith, who he hadn't spoken to in at least two weeks. When he asked Zola where Mommy was, she always said she was working. Meredith had told him she'd hired a nanny to care for the kids, which he hadn't been opposed to, but he did worry about the kids not seeing enough of either parent.

He answered the call without hesitation. "Meredith?" All he heard was breathing. Meredith's breathing. "Meredith?" he repeated. Still nothing more than breaths. His heart raced. What if Meredith was in trouble? "Meredith! Is everything okay? Please say something!"


"Meredith!" She woke abruptly. Derek? Her eyes fluttered as she regained consciousness and awareness of her surroundings. Goosebumps crawled up her arms. The lab was freezing cold. She'd dreamt that she was soaked head to toe, and Derek was there. Why was she wet, though, and what were she and Derek doing? She couldn't remember.

She missed Derek. She missed him so much that apparently she was imagining the sound of his voice right now. Maybe this was just another part of her dream. Her dreams were rarely coherent.

Nights were the absolute worst. She hated sleeping in a ginormous bed all by herself. When she was home, she usually let the kids sleep with her. However, it was easier to not go home at all, that way she didn't have to hear Zola talk about how much she missed Daddy. Derek being away hurt, but she couldn't let the kids see her pain. She had to stay positive for them, even if her brain wanted to soar with negativity.

"MEREDITH? Are you there?" Derek's voice was clear as day. She eyed her 3D printer. Maybe her wish had come true. Had she actually managed to print a 3D Derek? "Please say something, Meredith … I'm starting to freak out." That was when it dawned on her that Derek's voice was closer than she'd thought. It was coming from her phone, which was lying under her arm. She grabbed her phone.

"Derek?"

"Meredith!" She heard his gasp of relief. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah … fine. I think I sleep dialed you. I guess I was dreaming about you or something." She looked at the clock on the wall. It was one in the morning. "Crap, Derek I'm sorry for waking you. It's like four in the morning there."

"It's fine … I don't mind. Zola usually wakes me around this time. Are you home?"

"No … I'm in my lab," she said. "You?"

There was a pause. "I guess great minds think alike. I'm in my lab, too."

"I see," Meredith said.

"It's too bad we're in labs on opposite coasts," he admitted.

She smiled. "Yeah … I miss those late nights we used to spend in the lab together," she confessed. "So, are you making medical history?"

"I'm making progress. What about you?"

"I printed a tangible, anatomically correct 3-D model of a tumor, and it saved a woman's life." So what if it didn't function. It had given her visualization, and a woman was alive because she'd had that visualization. She knew she had to use every opportunity she could to brag to Derek about her success. She didn't want him to feel like the fancy 3D printer he'd bought her for Christmas had been a waste.

"That's amazing. I'm proud of you," Derek said.

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course I am. Now, I have to ask … what was I doing in your dream?" She heard him laugh, and her cheeks warmed.

"I don't remember," she fibbed.

"Oh, you don't remember, uh? But you know it was about me?" Derek asked. "Was I naked?" he teased. "It's okay if I was. I have plenty of naked dreams about you."

It was dark. Her hair was soaked. She couldn't see his face, but she felt his nipples hardening as her hands brushed over his body ...

"You might have been," she confessed. "What about you? Were you having any exciting dreams when I called?"


He had no plans of admitting that he was dreaming about Addison to Meredith, but he had a feeling that his recurring Addison dreams stemmed from the conversation he had with Amelia at Christmas. It had made him think. Meredith wasn't Addison, but the situation he and Meredith were going through was admittedly similar to what he and Addison had gone through. Except, Addison had never lied to him about having a daughter before they met. Addison was controlling sometimes, but she had never lied to him. She hadn't even tried to hide her affair with Mark from him.

He'd never felt the heat of the emotions felt toward Meredith right now when he was married to Addison. Derek couldn't even define the emotions he had for Meredith right now. They were the feelings he'd always felt for Meredith, and those were feelings he'd never felt for any other woman.

Instead of telling Meredith the truth, he chose to tell her about the other recurring dream he'd had. "I was dreaming about you and I … having sex in a public bathroom. We've never done that, have we?"

She was silent for a moment. "No … I don't think we have," she said. "But we could give a try next time we're together. It's been ages since we've tried anything adventurous." She giggled then. God, he missed the sound of her giggle.

"Yeah, it has," he admitted. Another silence fell between them.

"Derek … "

"Yeah?"

"I was just wondering … I know it's crazy, but …" The hesitation in his wife's voice made him nervous. " … you are in DC, and I know you went to New York for Christmas. Have you considered … trying to find her?"

He knew who she was talking about immediately.

"I've seen her," he blurted, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop himself.

"You … you've seen Amy?"

"At Christmas … it's a long story, but I saw her. She asked me not to tell you," he said.

"What the hell? I was going to suggest you try to get in contact with her, assuming it would be virtually impossible since there's like a gazillion people in New York, and probably a million of those people are named Amy Thompson! How have you seen her?"

"It's a long story, like I said. I wanted to tell you, but she specifically asked me not to … "

"Never mind, Derek. I can't deal with more of your lies."

"What about your lies?" Derek said to an empty room, because the line was already dead.

Great. There went the only half-way normal conversation he'd had with his wife in months.

He was wide awake now, and he decided that he might as well get an early start on work. He should take a shower and change his clothes, so when the other researchers arrived they wouldn't wonder why he looked like yesterday's leftovers. Instead, he headed down to his office and sat down in his office chair.

His computer was never shut down last night, so he just had to type in his password to load the home screen. He opened his favorite search engine and typed: Repressed memories.

Repression is one of the most haunting concepts in psychology, Derek read. The article called was The Reality of Repressed Memories by Elizabeth F. Loftus. He had some knowledge on the topic, being a brain guy, but his primary focus had always been the physical aspect of brains, not the psychological aspect. He knew there were many mysteries of the brain he knew little about.

Something shocking happens, and the mind pushes it into some inaccessible corner of consciousness. Later, the memory may emerge into consciousness. …

He loved his wife.

Derek loved Addison, and he would never do anything to put his marriage in jeopardy.

Addison and Naomi had planned a big couples retreat, which was all Addison had talked about for weeks. Not once had she asked Derek's opinion on the trip; he was just expected to go and be her perfect, happy husband.

What Addison didn't seem to understand was, they were medical residents. They didn't have the time to be taking vacations. There would be plenty of time for vacation later, after they were done with residency and world-renowned surgeons.

At that time in his life, his only focus was soaking up every little piece of information that would pave him on the right path to change the world of medicine and surgery. He would set aside time for lying on the beach when he was making a six figure income. That was not now. They could barely afford rent in New York City; they needed to save every penny.

"Derek, take a chill pill. Relax. You can't be all work and no play, that's not the man I fell in love with … "

"I haven't changed, Addison, so maybe you blindly fell in love with the wrong man!"

He couldn't do this … he couldn't do this anymore. He needed space.

His mother had advised him not to get married while still in med school, but he hadn't listened. "We'll push each other to be better!" he'd insisted. "Addison's the one, Mom … she's the one who will push me to be my best version of myself. She pushes me to be a better surgeon."

At the time, it was true. In college, they pulled all-night study sessions, spending hours upon hours quizzing each other on terms and definitions. Addison had changed his life. She made him want to be a better man. At first, he couldn't believe that someone like Addison Montgomery was interested in him. All he wanted to do was impress her by his intelligence. Later, as time passed, he learned that maybe it wasn't his intelligence that attracted her to him.

Sometimes, he wasn't sure what she saw in him at all.

He loved going to conferences, usually around the East Coast, because it gave him the opportunity to network with other medical professionals. He wanted to learn from the best, and he couldn't pass up an opportunity to watch Ellis Grey speak about her recent publication, The Grey Method.


He'd tried calling her six times on his new cell phone, but Addison hadn't picked up. Not once. A lingering feeling in Derek's gut had convinced him that his marriage was soon to be over, if it wasn't already.

"I'll never forgive you!" she'd said.

Would she really divorce him because he had picked learning over vacationing?

Where had he gone wrong? All he wanted was to provide a stable, exceptional life for them. He wanted them to be Drs. Shepherd and Shepherd — rockstar surgeons. He'd long-since dreamt about the wonderful world he and Addison could create together, with her focus on saving babies and his focus on saving brains.

They were supposed to be a power squad together.

His heart ached as he wandered into a bar across the street from The Brigham. The bar was surprisingly empty; most of the conference attendees were on their ways home, as he should be now. But he couldn't go home. Addison wouldn't be there; she was probably with Sam and Naomi. He had nowhere else to go.

"No," he spoke aloud. "No!" He realized he was shaking as the memory flooded him. He remembered distinctly having a fight with Addison before attending a conference in Boston. She wanted him to go on vacation with her, Sam, and Naomi, but he thought it was a bad idea, because they should be saving money, not spending it on extravagant vacations when they could barely pay rent.

Still, he had no recollection of when that fight had occurred. It had to be fairly early in their marriage. They'd married in 1994, so it couldn't have been long after.

What was he supposed to do now? Call Addison and ask if she remembered when that fight was? No, he couldn't do that. He didn't want to stir up old wounds, and Addison would immediately be suspicious.

Or, maybe, he could call Meredith … ask her to replay the story, and he could confirm if it was impossible for him to be at the same conference and bar as her mystery man.

Even if he was at the same conference, what were the odds that he was at the same bar?

A hand brushed against his shoulder …

He squeezed his eyes shut. Was it possible that he was intentionally inserting himself into Meredith's mystery man's eyes, in hopes of finding another connection between him and his wife to make sense of this mess?

Only, it was creating him even more confusion.

And none of it changed the fact that Meredith had never told him about Amy, and that she still held his lies against him. She was a hypocrite.

And so was he.

They were a hypocritical match made in Heaven.

He looked at the clock. It was five o'clock.


He took a cab to his apartment to shower and change clothes. He lived only fifteen minutes from the NIH without traffic. However, he knew he would hit rush hour on the way back to the NIH, which was the reason he wished he'd left right after ending his phone call with Meredith.

On his way back to the NIH, he attempted to call Meredith again, because he hated the idea of going about his day knowing she was pissed at him. He knew he needed to explain the Amy situation, then maybe Meredith would forgive him. Or at least cut him a little slack.

Meredith didn't answer any of his calls, though.

"Look … Meredith. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Amy. Please, let me explain. Before she left Seattle, I gave her my phone number, and she reached out to me … if you just give me a call back, I'll tell you everything. I love you, Meredith."

He braced himself as he ended the voicemail, feeling the importance of his last words. She needed to know that he loved her, and he would never intentionally hurt her.

He wished he knew she felt the same.


"Shepherd! Just the man I needed to talk to!" Dr. Tipton, one of the head honchos at the NIH, boasted as Derek strolled toward his office for the second time that morning, and it was only seven in the morning. He hadn't even had a chance to stop by the coffee station. Dr. Tipton was one of Derek's bosses, so he had to stop for him.

"Hello, Dr. Tipton. What did you need to see me about?"

"You see, Dr. Lyons was scheduled to go to Columbia University this afternoon to talk at an assembly about some of our projects. He was going to give a big presentation on the BRAIN Initiative and a couple other projects. You're a good public speaker. I thought you might be able to wing it," Dr. Tipton said.

"Columbia University? As in New York Columbia?" Derek froze. Amy's school.

"I can arrange for you to take off in one of our jets," Dr. Tipton said.

"Okay. I didn't have any plans today. What time is the presentation?"

"It's scheduled for four o'clock, so I would need you to be at the jet take-off station by two."

"I'll be there." He took a sharp breath, deciding it was worth a shot to ask one more question. "Hey, my mom lives in New York, and I'd love to spend some time with her. Would it be okay if I spent the night and came back to DC tomorrow?"

"That won't be a problem. I know how important family is … I lost my mom last year, so you should cherish every moment you have with her. Why don't you take tomorrow off and spend a long weekend in New York?"

"Really? That's generous of you."

"I owe you since you're saving face by doing this favor for me. I'm a little annoyed at Dr. Lyons for calling in at the last minute. We already had to cancel a lecture at Columbia a few months back, so the Dean isn't too happy with us. I don't want to wrestle anymore feathers there, since we get a lot of Columbia students who come here for our summer internship programs."

"It's not like you can control when you're sick. We of all people know that."

"It's not the first time he's pulled BS like this. I'm glad we have you, Dr. Shepherd. You're reliable, so thank you for being you."

He was heading to New York for four days, and he could only hope that he would find answers while there … except he had no idea what those answers would look like.


Amy was far from thrilled about the assembly this afternoon. She wouldn't be attending it if her Anatomy professor hadn't made it a course requirement.

A representative from the National Institute of Health was supposed to be sharing information about current research in Washington DC. It could be interesting, sure, but Amy would rather be hanging out with Victor. He was an Art History major, so he didn't have to attend this seminar. Instead, she'd let him into her dorm, where he would be waiting for her when she got out of the seminar.

She crossed her legs and lounged back in her seat and zoned out as one of the professors, not hers, gave the introductory speech. For their assignment, they were supposed to write down three topics they found interesting about the presentation, and they were going to discuss those topics in class tomorrow.

Whoop-dee-doo.

"I'd like to introduce to you all, Dr. Derek Shepherd, from the National Institute of Health's BRAIN Initiative."

A chill bolted down her spine.

Surely, she'd misheard. She was on full alert as she watched Dr. Derek Shepherd take the stage. She definitely had not misheard, because he was standing there … right in front of her eyes, and the entire auditorium was applauding his presence. Except her. Her hands were frozen with the rest of her body, in shock.

Don't see me, don't see me … she prayed, closing her eyes. However, when she reopened them, her eyes locked with Derek. He was looking directly at her. How the Hell had he found her in an auditorium of over one thousand students?

"Thank you for the warm welcome, Columbia University." Derek's alluring voice filled the auditorium. "It's an honor to be here, speaking to you about the projects we're working on at the National Institute of Health in Washington DC. I'm always excited to speak to young, aspiring medical professionals - my future colleagues.

My colleague, who was originally supposed to give this presentation today, has unfortunately fallen ill, so I'm here on his behalf. Now, my colleague works under a number projects, so he's more well-versed in the number of revolutionary projects the Institute is currently pursuing. I'm the Head of the BRAIN Initiative and report directly to President Obama, who has a special interest in this project. He considers it one of the government's utmost important projects in 2015.

We live in the Age of Science, in which beliefs are expected to be grounded in rock-solid evidence and empirical data. There is a puzzle about everyday life: We all feel like conscious agents acting with self-purpose and we are free to make choices of any kind. At the same time, we must realize we are machines, albeit biological machines. Einstein, for one, did not believe in free will.

The question that challenges me every day in my work, and in my personal life, for that matter." He chuckled. " … Are we free to choose as we wish? How much control do we really have? Well, that's what I'm here to talk to you all about today."

He continued looking straight at her. Her heart hammered in her chest. He wasn't just looking at her. He was talking to her. She'd picked up on his innuendos, and she couldn't just sit and listen to them.

Her stomach tightened, nausea seeping into her gut.

She sank deeper in her seat as Derek continued speaking, her head throbbing too hard to digest his words to follow. She observed his movements, how he remained professional throughout the whole charade, although staring at her at random moments throughout his speech. She knew she was the only person in the entire auditorium noticing where his eyes kept landing.

Derek Shepherd was an extraordinary public speaker. Amy had a feeling that people would listen to him talk about anything, even gerbil poop. He just had a way with words. She didn't. She hated public speaking. Most of the time, she hated speaking at all. That was the reason her arrangement with Victor was perfect, because it didn't require much talking.

Amy's head spun. Derek would not stop looking at her. Stop it, she thought. She needed for him to stop looking at her. Amy felt like she was being personally victimized by his gaze.

She eyeballed the auditorium exit in the way back of the room. There was no way she could escape without making a scene, and then her professor might dock her points for leaving early. She could just say she wasn't feeling well, which was the truth.

So she was stuck until Derek Shepherd stopped talking.

"I like to think of the brain as a mystical object. We know a lot about it, but we don't know everything. The brain is fascinating. It's capable of amazing things. Generally speaking, we only retain 20 percent of the information thrown at us in a given moment, so when you leave this auditorium, if I've done my job right, then you'll take away 20 percent of what I've said. So, if your professors are giving you an exam on this seminar, tell them I say it's okay if you only get 20 percent."

Laughter filled the auditorium. Not only was he a great public speaker, but he was funny, too.

"The brain is also capable of destroying us," he said, his tone shifting to a more solemn note. He transitioned into a spiel about Alzheimer's disease, and how the disease ate away the mind. He compared this to other hiccups in memory, and how the BRAIN Initiative was striving to not only understand, but create cures and, if not cures, ailments. Her attention peaked.

Alzheimer's was the prime reason she had decided to seek out her birth mother in the first place. She had taken a genetic test at her doctor's office when she was sixteen to test for various genetic conditions. The test had been recommended by her doctor since her parents didn't know anything about her biological parents' medical history.

When the test revealed she had the markers for the Alzheimer's gene, she knew she had inherited it from her birth mother or father, and she wanted to seek them out, to warn them if they didn't already know.

She never got the chance before all hell broke loose. Of course, she hadn't expected her biological mother to be a surgeon, either.

Judging by the passion in Derek's voice when he spoke of Alzheimer's, she had a feeling that he already knew.

It all made sense now. Derek was working for the president and the National Institute of Health to help cure the disease that his wife was likely to develop.

Which meant Amy had inherited the genetic markers from Meredith.

All the more reason to hate her.

"My dream is that one day we'll have a medication to give individuals with the genetic markers for Alzheimer's that will prevent them from ever developing Alzheimer's. Most surgeons will agree it's unlikely that we'll ever be able to reverse memory loss. Alzheimer's isn't psychological. It's not protecting individuals from hurtful or painful memories, like repressed memories. Alzheimer's and dementia patients need more than therapy. They need the help of the world's best neuroscientists and surgeons, and that's why I'm here. I'm here to change the world. Why are you here? If it's not to make a difference in someone else's life, you might want to consider a different career path."

She could feel the intensity and passion in his final words.

His teary eyes directed toward her one final time.

"Thank you," he concluded.

The professor who'd introduced him stepped back up to the stage.

"Does anyone have questions for Dr. Shepherd?"

A string of hands went up.

She listened to him answer questions from the group. There was one from a girl whose grandfather had Alzheimer's, and she wanted to know if there were any trial treatments that she could get her grandfather into that were not mainstream. What Dr. Shepherd did amazed Amy … he went into the audience and handed the student his business card and encouraged the student to give it to her grandfather's caretaker. He said he would be happy to do a consultation with the student's family.

Amy covered her face, because tears were spilling from eyes and she didn't want others to ask what was wrong.

As soon as the question and answer wrapped up and they were dismissed, she bolted as fast as she could.


Derek didn't know how he found Amy so fast in the crowd of students, but somehow, his eyes had found her like she was magnetic, pulling his gaze toward her. When he found her, he couldn't stop looking at her.

He searched for her now that his speech was over. Derek refused to believe that this - them both being in this auditorium - was a coincidence. He didn't believe in coincidences. In his field, he had to believe there was a scientific reason for everything. His mother called it, "fate," but he called it, "science."

His eyes wandered the auditorium, but she was nowhere in sight now. Fearing she'd already disappeared for good, he escaped through the backstage exit. He ran outside, hoping that science would bring them together again.

Just when he'd about given up, his eyes fell on a back of a head in the distance. "Amy?" he called. She turned toward him. However, as soon as she spotted him, she began running quickly away from him.

"Amy, wait!" he called after her, chasing after her, but her pace quickened. He ended up following her all the way across campus, and he was feeling slightly stalkerish. He followed Amy from Davis Auditorium in the Schapiro Center all the way to the South Lawn, where the First-Year students were housed. He remembered that from his years at Columbia. While he never attended Columbia during his undergraduate, he had always had a passion for teaching and helping others; so he'd made some extra cash during college by tutoring pre-med students. He'd spent several hours in the freshman dorms helping students study for exams.

By the time he crossed College Walk, he was so far behind her, he was sure that if she looked back, she wouldn't see him. Yet, he could still see her, and he watched turn left toward Carman Hall. The majority of Columbia undergraduate freshmen were housed in either John Jay or Carman Hall.

He had to stop to catch his breath, wallowing in his aged body which was incapable of keeping up with an eighteen-year-old girl. How was he going to find Amy, now? He knew back when he was in school, all the students had their names on their doors. He liked to imagine they still did. Still, Carman Hall had thirteen floors, and he was already huffing and puffing. Even if he could sneak past security, there was no way he was going to walk through thirteen halls, hoping to find her name. Plus, the chances of there being more than one Amy were high.

His best bet was to run into someone who knew her, and could point him in the direction of her room.

As he approached Carman Hall, a boy walked up the stairs.

"Excuse me, young man, can you help me out?"

The kid stopped and turned toward him.

"Uh … okay?"

"I'm looking for Amy Thompson's room. I know she lives in this building, but I don't know her room number. Thin; she's a natural blonde, but she's dyed her hair dark. You don't happen to know her, do you? She's … uh … my niece, and I'm in town from Washington DC. I work for the government." He showed the kid his government ID. The kid's eyes widened.

"Everyone knows Amy," the guy laughed. Derek wasn't sure what that meant, exactly. "She's the girl in 1111A. She's basically the campus mom, and she always has free snacks available for anyone who wants them. You have a cool niece. She's right across from the elevator on the eleventh floor." Amy and Meredith apparently had something else in common, from what Derek had gathered from this kid; they both cared for others more than themselves.

"Thanks, kid."

"You'll need a student to check you in at the security desk, though. I can do that if you want. Does Amy know you're coming?"

"Actually, it's kind of a surprise," Derek said. "I haven't seen her in a while, and I happened to get called into town on business today, so I thought I'd stop by. I'm her favorite uncle."

The lies were coming easier. Meredith was right: he was a lying liar. But so was she. The difference was, she lied by omission, and he told outright lying lies.

It was no wonder anymore why he and Meredith couldn't trust each other, and he had no idea how they would ever find a way to trust each other. They had to find a way, because one thing was for certain, he knew he couldn't lose his family.

Right now, he couldn't focus on Meredith. He needed to focus on her daughter. For some reason, he wanted to believe if he could sort out the whole Amy situation, he would be able to fix his marriage.

The kid let him into the dorm, and Derek was able to sneak by security to the elevator. He rode the elevator the the eleventh floor and found 1111A-right across from the elevator, like the kid had said.

He knocked.

When there was no answer, he pulled down on the door handle and noticed it was unlocked. He entered the hallway between the two suites. Both bedroom doors were shut, and his ears were instantly met by an, "Ohhhh … ohhh … that's the spot … ohhh …. OHHH." It was Amy. "I'm so close … so close … oh, yeah … OH!" Then he heard a guy's grunting.

What the hell?

He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Amy was a young woman. She was eighteen years old, so she was entitled to do as she pleased. Including have sex.

Moments later, Derek heard Amy gasp, "That was amazing." Then a few seconds later, he heard footsteps coming toward the door, and, before he could bolt, the door swung open, and there stood Amy. She wore nothing but a T-shirt. Behind her, a naked guy was under her covers.

Amy screamed at the top of her lungs, her cheeks bright red. "What the hell are you doing here? What, you arranged a lecture at my school and somehow talked to my professor and required her to make me go? Are you stalking me? You must be if you found my room … "

"Amy, it's not how it looks," he said. "Please … just talk to me, Amy. Also, please tell me you're using protection." His fatherly tone had taken control. Whether or not Amy was his biological daughter, he was a father, and it was habitual for him to be protective of her. He dreaded Zola's teen years and the thought of having to talk about sex with her. He'd already told Meredith that those years would all be on her.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!" She hit him over and over again; her fists were tiny and ineffectual like Meredith's. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY DORM!"

"Amy, what's going on?" He realized a crowd of kids had swarmed around Amy's suite; they all looked prepared to stand up for Amy too. He had to get out before they called the police. He didn't need that on his plate now on top of everything else bad in his life. His mother would not appreciate bailing him out of jail.

"I … I was just leaving," he said. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Amy." He sincerely meant it, too.

He realized now that following Amy had been a terrible idea.


Irene's A/N: Well, it seems like Derek can't get anything right with the women in his life, uh? Do you think he'll find a way to fix this mess? Stay tuned to find that out!