A/N: I'm sorry for the long time it's taken me to update. The next chapter will be faster. A quick note, to avoid confusion (which I'll delete later once it's fixed everywhere): the astute reviewer Patsy asked me why MedCom was featured in a story about a civilian hospital and I made a note to figure out why - um, next time I want to make up a fictional NON military medical professional organization, aka a fake AMA, I'll google the name quickly first. Oops. So meet NatMed, the new fake AMA. I'll change the other chapters soon so it won't be confusing in the future. And a thank you salute to eagle-eyed Patsy!
oh I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love
He has time for only a second of pure joy at the news that Annabel came through surgery – she's okay she's okay she's really okay – before he feels his wife's body sag against his.
"Addison!"
He already has his arm around her, so it's thankfully easy to catch her as her knees buckle.
She's already starting to come around as he lowers her carefully to the couch. "Take it easy," he warns as she starts to sit up.
"I'm fine. Sorry." She draws a hand across her face, then looks at Mark anxiously. "It wasn't a dream, then…?"
"No. She's really okay."
Her smile is the widest he's seen.
"Let's go." She reaches for him and he hoists her to her feet. "I want to see her."
"Maybe try not to pass out on her," Karev mutters as they walk out the door.
Charming. Then again, Mark knows the guy played a major role in getting Derek into the OR, so he can't actually hold a grudge.
"She's in recovery." Karev leads them to the glass doors of the PACU.
"Thank you for everything." Addison reaches out to grasp his hand and he nods at both of them before heading off.
Mark catches Addison's arm before she can push through the door. "Gown, Addie." It's a sign of the insanity of the day that she would forget. When they're both sufficiently sterile, they head in.
"She's doing great." The recovery nurse's manner is soothing. "She's met every milestone so far."
Mark stares down at his daughter. She's white and still, with a bandage over what he knows to be the hole they drilled in her skull. And there's a small titanium plate, though he won't be able to see that, or the staples. It's weak, maybe, but he's glad. Her eyes are closed, the lids swollen, her cheeks unnaturally puffy. He watches her small body rise and fall rhythmically.
"Dr. Shepherd wants her weaned off sedation in stages. They already confirmed her responses in the OR. And Dr. Grey said you'd want to see her before we took her to PICU."
"We did." Addison smiles at her, then leans down to address their daughter.
"Bel?" she says softly. "We're here. We love you. You're going to be fine."
She glances uncertainly at Mark, and he squeezes her hand.
"You rest, and when you wake up, you're going to feel so much better." Her voice cracks on the last word and Mark sees a tear run down her cheek.
"Addie," he says softly and she shakes her head.
He turns to the bed and opens his mouth to say something reassuring to his sedated daughter, but finds his throat constricted. "Annabel, you …" he swallows hard, clears his throat, then tries again. "You ... you're going to have so much leverage over us after this."
Addison laughs through her tears and he hugs her, hard. For long moments they stand in each other's arms at Annabel's bedside, just watching her breathe.
Mark's not sure how much time has passed when the nurse's gentle voice interrupts. "Actually, her numbers are improving rapidly. We can take her up to the PICU now."
"We're going with you." Addison steps forward, then glances back at Mark, who nods.
Mark's heart beats faster as one of the team elbows the automatic switch and the glass doors yawn open to receive them. The pediatric ICU is another reason he shied away from peds. He's no strong enough, he thinks, to see these small bodies pierced with needles, run through with tubes, dependent on machines.
Annabel's gurney is corralled into a curtained area.
"Visitors are encouraged in PICU … within reason," one of the residents – Mark can't remember his name – says, turning to them. "We really prefer one at a time, though."
Neither Mark nor Addison moves.
The resident sighs. "Yeah, that's how most of the parents respond. Go ahead," he says wearily.
There's only one chair, and Mark guides Addison into it, resting his hand on her shoulder.
"I wish she'd wake up," Addison murmurs.
"She was responsive in the OR," Mark says firmly. "She just needs time now."
They alternate between watching Annabel breathe and watching the progress of the illuminated numbers on her monitors. Mark swallows hard as he recalls how they passed the time in the family waiting room, the way Addison had frozen under his fingers at the thought that they would never have memories of Annabel at seven years old or beyond. But here she is: whole, healthy – maybe not awake yet, but most importantly free from the tumor that was threatening her life.
..
"How's my patient?"
Mark turns to see Amy standing just beyond the curtain, grinning. Her hair is damp and flyaway, her scrubs wrinkled, and she looks both exhausted and very pleased with herself.
"Amy!" Addison is out of her chair, throwing her arms around the other woman. "You were right." She draws back. "You are amazing. You're amazing and I never doubted you."
"You didn't?" Amy furrows her brow. "Must have been another tall redhead, then."
"Congratulations." It's Mark's turn and Amy hugs him back with enthusiasm that lifts her off her feet. "…Amelia," he says when he sets her down.
Amy's eyes widen. "Don't you mean Dr. Curie?"
"Where are the others?" Addison asks.
"They're coming. They're talking. Or hooking up in the scrub room, I don't know."
"Amy." Addison gestures to Annabel's bed. "Filter."
"She can't hear me."
"Okay, then filter because I can hear you," Addison proposes. "Hey," she adds, "I'm going to try my best but I might slip up – and I guess I already did – but thank you, Amelia."
Amy smiles widely. "I like the way that sounds when you say it."
"Derek!"
"You don't have to call me Derek, you can just stick with Amelia … oh," Amy says, noticing that Derek is heading their way, Meredith appearing from behind him.
They're side by side as they stride forward. Mark hears Addison's breath catch next to him, and by the time she stumbles forward into Derek's arms she's crying.
"These are happy tears, right?" Derek pats her back a few times, then glances at Mark for confirmation, who nods reassuringly.
"And thank-you tears," Addison draws back, wiping her cheeks. "I can't believe – thank you," she says again. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," and she wraps her arms around his neck again.
"You're crying on the inside, right?" Meredith grins at Mark, breaking the tension, and he moves forward to embrace her, surprised at how small she feels in his arms. Meredith has been such a towering force on the surgical team, in the OR, that he's forgotten how physically diminutive she is.
They exchange partners then, Addison hugging Meredith tightly, murmuring something to her that Mark can't hear. As for him, for a moment he just stares at his oldest friend.
The one who didn't speak to him for seven years but welcomed them into his hospital. The one who put aside years of tension with his little sister to build a flawless team of brain surgeons. The one who risked professional censure for walking into the OR to save Annabel's life.
He opens his mouth to say something – thank you, maybe? – but then his body moves forward of its own accord and the two men embrace.
"This would make the start of a great Penthouse letter."
"Filter!" Addison says sharply to Amy over the top of Meredith's head, still hugging her.
Amy shrugs and Derek shakes his head in his sister's direction.
"You." Addison draws away from Meredith, then rests her hands on her shoulders. "You are a goddess, you know that. You did the impossible. You made miracles happen."
"It wasn't just me," Meredith protests with a smile.
"I can't believe more of my brother's ego hasn't rubbed off on you," Amy observes, shaking her head.
"That's enough out of you." Derek pulls his sister toward him in some combination of a hug and a headlock. "Nice work in there ... Amelia," he says, releasing her.
"Thanks." Amy grins broadly at him. "You, um, you can keep calling me Amy if you want." She glances at the group. "Just Derek, though, because he saved my life or whatever. The rest of you have to stick with Amelia."
Meredith lifts an eyebrow at Derek. "You saved her life or whatever?"
"Has he told you anything about me?" Amy challenges.
"I did indeed save her life or whatever," Derek says to Meredith. To Amy he adds mildly: "What can I say? You defy description."
"Luckily, we'll have lots of time to catch up," Amy says cheerfully, smiling at Meredith. "I'm staying for post-op."
"Oh, good," Derek says weakly. Mark sees him mouth what? defensively at Meredith's sharp look.
The three surgeons move in toward the bed then to see Annabel, and Mark steps back to make room. Addison leans against his side and he wraps an arm around her, watching them.
Brains, skill, nerve.
Or skill, brains, nerve, since Meredith is standing between Derek and Amy, her hand entwined with her husband's.
For a moment they all watch Annabel breathe, then Mark sees Meredith reach out to take Amy's hand with her other hand.
"Derek."
They all turn around at the deep voice. Chief Webber is standing just outside the curtains, looking grim.
"St. Fiacre knows about the DVE," he says simply. "A NatMed rep called me. Derek, I'm sorry, but-"
"I know." Derek nods. "I'm going."
He kisses Meredith and simply heads toward the PICU exit, shrugging out of his lab coat as he walks.
"Derek, wait-" Mark jogs to catch up, not really sure why.
He turns around, the DVE badge in his hand. "What is it?"
What can he say?
"I ... thank you," he says, his voice coming out thickly.
Derek smiles briefly. "You're welcome. I'm leaving now before they call in security, and you … go be with your daughter."
"It's not fair," Addison is saying quietly as Mark rejoins the group.
"I know." Meredith sighs. "The lawyer thinks your affidavits will help, at least, and he'll probably get off just with a fine, depending on the panel. And thank you, by the way, for doing that."
"Of course." Addison nods.
Mark checks his blackberry at the vibration. "The boys are-"
"I know," Meredith smiles, holding up her own device. "I had some great pictures waiting for me when I scrubbed out."
"Ida's a good photographer."
"It looks like Teri met up with them at the playground. They're still together."
Mark smiles at the thought. It's going to be tough to separate them after this.
"I'm going to get cleaned up." Meredith smiles tiredly at them. "They'll page me if anything changes."
And then there's more waiting.
"It's good waiting this time," Addison says, as if she's read his mind. She leans her head against him as he stands next to her chair.
"She's weaning faster than we expected." The resident smiles at him. "It might only be a couple more hours."
..
Nurse Thea is cheerful on her next visit. "We've already halved the sedation, pulse ox looks good… she's doing great."
Less than two hours pass before they prepare to extubate her. This is the moment they've been waiting for, but Mark finds himself nervous.
"Dr. Karev is the master of pediatric intubation," Nurse Thea says with a smile as Karev strides through the curtains.
"That's okay," Karev says with exaggerated humility. "You can just refer to me as a god, it's fine. What's up, Thea?" He nods in the nurse's direction with a smirk that looks a bit like a leer and Nurse Thea, who is at least fifteen years older, blushes.
"Behave yourself, Dr. Karev," she warns, but her returning smile is affectionate.
"What did I do?" He spreads his hands innocently. "Hey," he adds, reviewing the monitors and then glancing from Mark to Addison, "She's looking really good." He examines Annabel briefly. "Let's do this."
"Are you sure she's ready?"
Karev gives him a curious look.
"I mean ...she's tachy," Mark offers.
"That's typical with children pre-extubation. It should resolve itself once the ETT comes out."
"Mark." Addison touches his arm, and he nods, watching the nurse suctions the tube carefully.
"It's easier if you don't watch," Karev says simply.
But Addison gives him a desperate look and Mark nods, leaning toward the bed. This is how they have survived: taking turns being reticent and being bold. They need to do this, and now it's his turn to step in. Gently, he restrains his daughter's small shoulders, whispering softly to her. "Hang on, Bel, we're going to get this tube out of your throat and you're going to feel a lot better."
Her eyes are darting around the room and she flinches as the nurse suctions her airway.
"Mark…" Addison's voice trembles.
"She's fine, Addie," he says calmly, keeping his voice low and reassuring for Annabel's sake. "Everything's fine. Hang on, Bel."
Extubation, even by the master, is ugly, but it's mercifully brief, and then Addison lowers the guardrail and holds Annabel carefully against her. Karev lifts an eyebrow at Mark, then exchanges a glance with Nurse Thea and they apparently decide not to push it.
"Take some deep breaths, love," Addison murmurs.
Annabel's blue eyes are wide and frightened, searching, her breaths shallow and scratchy.
"It's okay, sweetheart," Addison soothes, stroking her hair. "We're right here. Take some deep breaths for me."
She starts to inhale and coughs instead.
"Good girl." Addison rubs her back.
Mark is disturbed by the pained expression on her face, even though he knows coughing is key to keeping her airway clear without the ETT.
The nurse carefully fits a child-sized oxygen mask over her face and Mark watches the monitors closely. Just as Karev assured them, her heart rate is steadily slowing.
"Nice deep breaths," Mark takes the hand without the IV into his. "Good job."
For a few moments Annabel just breathes huskily. Then she wriggles and pulls her hand out of Mark's; lifting it to her face, she tugs weakly at the oxygen mask. Mark moves in quickly to stop her. "You need to leave the mask on for now, babe. It's helping you breathe."
She coughs again and they prop the bed higher.
There are tears in her eyes and he can see she's trying to say something. With a quick confirmatory glance at Addison, he lifts the mask carefully away from her face.
"I … feel weird," she says slowly, fretfully. She's hoarse and slurry as if speaking is difficult. Still, he relishes hearing her voice.
"I know, it's okay. You're going to start to feel better really soon. The mask is part of that. Take some nice, deep breaths, okay? We'll do it together."
He refits the mask and takes her little hand between both of his.
With a nod to both of them, Karev leaves.
Long minutes pass. Addison is rhythmically smoothing Annabel's hair away from her forehead and Mark sees her eyes start to flutter closed. They're puffy, still swollen from surgery. It will go down quickly, he knows, but his stomach twists to see it anyway.
"She's asleep." Addison's voice is soft and when Mark meets her eyes they're glistening. Carefully, she sets Annabel back against her pillow.
"Addison," he starts, but a rustling stops him. Annabel's eyes open slowly as Mark turns to see their visitor.
Amy pokes her head in. "I heard she was up."
"She's up."
Amy props a hand on her hip, examining the numbers. "She looks good. Really good."
"Yeah, she does." Addison smiles at her. "Thanks to you."
"Well, thanks to Dr. Karev and Nurse Thea, really. I can't extubate for shit."
"Amy," Addison says weakly.
"I know, I know, filter." She moves toward the bed and addresses Annabel. "Hi there. Remember me?"
Annabel shakes her head slowly. Addison is still leaning over her, stroking her hair and keeping her calm.
"I'm Dr. Shepherd."
Annabel shakes her head again, then points to her mask.
"Honey, you need to keep the mask on," Addison says softly.
Annabel points to the mask again, looking from Amy to her mother, and Addison relents, lifting the mask slightly away from her face.
"You're not ... Dr. Shepherd," Annabel says slowly, her voice slurring, the "sh" coming out more like "s," and promptly starts coughing again.
Mark supports her shaking body while Addison rubs her back. "There you go, you're okay," she murmurs.
"Why do all your kids doubt my credentials?" Amy asks once Annabel is calm again, the oxygen mask refitted to her face. She smiles at Annabel. "The other Dr. Shepherd, the less hot one, is my brother."
Mark glances at Addison, who just shakes her head wearily, not bothering to scold Amy this time.
"How are you feeling? Give me a thumbs up or thumbs down," Amy suggests, pointing to Annabel's free hand.
Annabel lifts her hand, seems to be considering it for a moment, and then inches her thumb up until it's about halfway between neutral and good.
"Not bad at all, considering." Amy smiles. "Okay, you hang in there and I'll see you again soon. Keep that mask on," she adds.
"You know the drill," Amy says quietly as Mark steps away from his daughter's bedside to confer with her outside the curtain. "She's going to sleep a lot. We're keeping her on the anticonvulsants. She'll stay in PICU a day or two, and in the hospital a week or so. Oxygen depends on her levels. We'll be monitoring her for infection, hemorrhage, edema. She's not going to sound perfect, and that's expected – slowed speed, slurring, some confusion, but keep an eye – well, an ear – out for anything too extreme and let me know. If she keeps up at this rate, she could go down to the peds neuro unit as early as tomorrow. But there's no need to rush."
She says all this quickly, but authoritatively. He stares at her for a moment, all traces of the kid sister gone from her face and her demeanor.
"What?"
"Nothing." He smiles briefly. "Thank you, for that. And for all of this."
"You're welcome. I'm going to get some caffeine. Page me if you need anything."
Annabel is dozing again when he returns to her bedside.
They watch her sleep until Mark's blackberry buzzes at the same time Addison's does: Ida.
"She's ten minutes away," Addison reports quietly, checking the device. Ida has been checking in regularly all day, and they've kept her updated on Annabel. They agreed earlier to meet between seven and seven-thirty, so it shouldn't surprise them that it's 7:05 now, making her arrival time 7:15.
Addison looks torn as the minutes tick away. "I should stay," she murmurs when Mark stands up to go downstairs.
Nurse Thea, who's checking quietly on Annabel's monitors while she sleeps, smiles reassuringly at Addison. "I won't leave her side, I promise. Go and get your son."
They spy Max's sandy blond head as soon as the elevator doors part.
"Mommy! Daddy!" Max pulls away from Ida and runs across the lobby toward them. Mark crouches to scoop him up.
"Is Annabel awake now?" Max asks eagerly.
"She's awake," Addison says, smiling at Max, who squeals with excitement.
"Can I go see her?"
"Not yet, bud." Mark hoists him higher in his arms. "No kid visitors allowed where she is right now."
"But I can wear my outfit," he wheedles.
"Sorry, buddy. Not this time."
"When?"
"Hopefully tomorrow. And if not, then the next day. Hey," he says before Max can protest, "you didn't tell me about your adventure today. Did you have fun?"
"Yeah, really fun," Max says happily. "Me and Thomas went on all the things. And we had pizza for dinner. But," his little nose wrinkles, "it tasted kind of weird."
"You're not in Manhattan anymore, Toto."
"I'm not Toto!"
"You're right. I meant you're not in Manhattan anymore, Max." He ruffles his son's hair and turns to Ida. "Was everything okay?" he asks, aware they don't exactly have privacy.
"Everything was great," she says firmly. "The boys played so nicely together. Max showed Thomas how to climb the pirate's ladder, didn't you, Max? And the young woman who takes care of Thomas is lovely. Do you know she's never been to New York City?"
Addison gives her a sidelong glance. "You've already scheduled a reunion, haven't you."
Ida's eyes twinkle. "No comment."
Mark glances at his watch. Despite Ida's ever-present energy, it's already a quarter past seven. Ida has been with Max more than twelve hours at this point. As grateful as he is for her arrival, he doesn't want to wear her down or take unfair advantage. Just like the rest of them, Ida needs to pace herself.
"You've been incredible," he says gratefully, "and I know you're tireless, Ida, but please, go back the hotel and rest. It's been a long day."
"At least let me take Max back with me."
Mark and Addison exchange a glance. Max can't go into PICU, so keeping him here with them will require taking turns at Annabel's bedside. Then again, it will also allow Mark to spend some time with Max before sending him back to the hotel with Addison, a plan he hasn't exactly run by his wife.
"We've got him. It's almost his bedtime anyway. One of us will take him back soon."
"Who's putting me to bed?" Max, the walking definition of little pitchers, leans back in Mark's arms with a quizzical expression on his face.
"Mommy is," Mark says smoothly and Max beams.
He catches Addison's lifted brow as she recognizes exactly what he's done.
It was a little unfair, fine, but he's prepared to stand by it. It's not how they operate, as a rule – they make decisions as a team – but Addison needs to sleep in an actual bed and he's not sure he would have been able to convince her without drawing Max into it.
"Are you coming now, Mommy?" Max smiles widely at her.
"Soon, sweetheart." Addison strokes Max's hair, then leans close to Mark to murmur nice in his ear with whispered sarcasm.
He feels guilty … very briefly.
Ida doesn't miss their interaction. She never misses much. "Let me say goodnight to my favorite little guy." She holds out her hand and Max wriggles out of Mark's arms and trots off hand in hand with her.
"That wasn't fair," Addison says levelly when they're out of earshot.
"No," he agrees. "It wasn't. And I'm sorry. But … it's still right. Max needs one of us. You'll come back early in the morning."
She folds her arms.
"Please, Addison."
Tilting her head, she looks up at him. "Okay." She touches his cheek with one hand. "It was still a cheap trick, though."
"True." He takes her extended hand and uses it to pull her into his arms. "But it worked," he adds, her outraged response muffled in his shoulder.
..
"…and then we climbed up to the big slide and Thomas was scared but we went down together and then we did it again a million more times." Max has been chatting happily about his day for their entire trip from the lobby to the cafeteria.
"Daddy." Max stops recalling the day's adventures and tugs on his hand.
"Yeah, bud?"
"Can Thomas sleep over tonight?"
He smiles at his son. "Thomas is sleeping at his house tonight."
"Can he sleep over tomorrow?"
"We'll see, buddy. Hey," and he decides he'll repent for this later, but he sees Meredith standing with Amy just outside the cafeteria, signaling to him with an expression that makes it clear she wants to talk. "How about some ice cream?"
With Max seated happily in a chair with his little paper cup of ice cream, Mark beckons the other two a few feet away so he can watch his son but still keep him from hearing their conversation.
"What's going on?"
"Interesting news." Meredith glances at her blackberry. "They've moved Derek's hearing up."
Amy smirks. "I guess they finally got the memo that it was an emergency. Can you write back 'too little, too late'?"
"When is it?" Mark asks.
"Thursday."
Thursday. It's already Monday, giving them … a whole two days. Then again, the sooner his hearing, the sooner he can get back into the hospital. "Does he have to go to DC?"
"No, they send the review council to the 'site of the incident,'" Meredith stresses the words.
"So they're coming here."
She nods.
"Who's on the review council, anyway?"
"It varies, but it's always three senior directors. I think they give you notice of … damn it," she says, pressing a few buttons.
"What is it?" Amy inclines her head toward Meredith.
"They sent the names separately." She holds up her blackberry.
Mark glances at the screen. None of the names rings a bell.
"It's this one." She taps the screen. "Lyman Stockton. He's the only one the lawyer warned us about by name - he has a bad rep, hasn't voted against sanctions in ten years."
"Does the council have to be-"
"Unanimous for release, yes."
Meredith pockets her blackberry, her eyes anxious.
"So the news went from 'interesting' to 'bad'?" Amy looks from one of them to other.
Meredith just shakes her head.
"Amy – Amelia," Mark says quietly.
"What?"
"Nothing." He sighs. "Look, we can research this guy. I'll start as soon as I put Max down."
Max, who has been distracted with his ice cream, looks up at the sound of his name.
"Thanks." Meredith doesn't look particularly reassured. "I'm going home. See you in the morning."
She waves goodbye to Max, who tugs on his father's hand again.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah, bud."
"Is Dr. Girl Shepherd sleeping over tonight?"
He hadn't considered that one.
"I was going to get you a room … I forgot to call."
"I guess you've had a few things on your mind."
"Just a few."
"You can sleep in my bed," Max offers grandly. "I like the big one better."
"How can I say no to an offer like that?" Amy grins at Mark. "I have a key. I'm going to stick around for a while, keep an eye on her numbers. I may sleep here, I don't know – just tell Addison not to chain the door."
"Actually, can you do me a favor and – watch him, just for a couple of minutes, so I can bring Addison some coffee and give her an update?"
Amy's eyes widen. "I, um…."
"Amelia, you performed an unprecedented brain surgery this morning. Is that really less intimidating than keeping an eye on one very well behaved four-year-old?"
Okay, very well behaved is pushing it, but still.
"That's a fair point." She's never been one to turn down a challenge. "So, what do kids like to do?"
"The usual," Mark shrugs. "Sit in the gallery for bowel surgeries, explore the morgue- I'm kidding," he grins at Amy's expression. "He'll be set with that ice cream for at least ten minutes. If he finishes, ask him to tell you something about dinosaurs. That's guaranteed to keep him occupied. I really appreciate this," he adds. "You're just … saving all the Sloans today."
"I do what I can."
"Thank you," he says again, giving her hand a quick squeeze. He crouches next to his son. "I'll be back really soon. I love you. Dr. Girl Shepherd's in charge. Got it?"
"Got it."
He ruffles his son's hair. "Good."
"You all set?" he asks Amy, who's looking at Max with a mixture of curiosity and alarm.
"I guess."
"Ten minutes. Less," he promises her. "Thank you again," and he heads back to the PICU.
"Where's Max?" Addison asks as soon as he enters Annabel's area. She's sleeping, lashes dark on her puffy cheeks; he's not accustomed to the swelling yet.
"With Amy- I mean Amelia," he corrects himself.
Addison's eyes widen. "Amy's baby-sitting?"
"We let her operate on Annabel. I think that ship has sailed."
"Right. Well, thank you," she takes the coffee from his hand and kisses him, then furrows her brow at his expression. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I talked to Meredith. Derek's hearing was moved up – it's Thursday."
She raises her eyebrows. "That's … very soon. But it's good news, isn't it?"
"They fly the review council out to the hospital, apparently, and Meredith is worried about who's sitting for his hearing."
"How does she-"
"Apparently her lawyer warned her about one of the directors." He pauses, trying to remember the name. "Lyman … Stockdale, I think."
Addison's eyes widen. "Lyman Stockton?"
"That's it. You know who he is?"
She nods, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah. I know who he is."
"How-"
"I'll be right back. Stay with her, okay?"
"Wait, Addie – where are you going?"
"I think I know how we can help Derek."
"How?"
She holds up her phone, silent, from but from her expression he puts it together and realizes what she intends.
"Addison … you're really going to call him?"
"Annabel's okay." She draws a shaking breath. "She's okay, Mark. And now Derek needs our help, so – yeah, I'm really going to call him."
Reviews make my night and speed my fingers etc. etc.! I liked this chapter, despite the lack of flashbacks. Agree? Disagree? Let me know. Next chapter will be back to the usual format. Meanwhile, y'all are always one step ahead of me, so I bet I don't even have to ask who's on the other end of Addison's phone call...
Also calling all MerDer shippers and/or faithful watchers of seasons 5+: can you confirm that Meredith and Derek don't call each other by any pet names (other than the occasional Mer)? I've watched a bunch of episodes that were new to me, but I'm not confident about this. Any insight you have would be great. I'm starting to enjoy writing these two - even though we only see them from Mark and Addison's perspective, I think (hope?) their essence still comes through.
Title lyric from Pearl Jam's Just Breathe.