My Never
Chapter 21

Thanks, everyone, for all the sympathy about my awful day. Sometimes you just have those days, you know? Anyway your reviews mean the world to me! :D Sorry, I know it's been a little while. I had a little trouble with this chapter, but it's done now. So what are you waiting for? Read!

Derek ~ Seattle Grace ~ present

He was worried that he was failing.

Perhaps he had overestimated his abilities, or underestimated the damage done to her. It was torture to think it, to even be able to fathom it, but what if she was never healed? What if she always smiled the broken, dead smile he saw nowadays? What if her eyes were always empty, dark memories growing like weeds, wreaking havoc on her already fragile state of mind? What if, what if, what if?

Derek allowed himself an instant of weakness in which he buried his face in his hands in front of the microwave. It was not that he minded caring for Addison, in fact, he couldn't think of anything he'd rather be doing. He was hyperaware of how lucky he was, because every morning the news featured more stories of other victims who had been found dead.

The embers that had smoldered, hidden, for four years apart were reigniting, reminding Derek of all the things he loved about Addison. Some were things of the past, like her killer heels and tough-as-nails demeanor. But others, the most important things, the things that screamed Addison, were things she could never loose. The way she asked Alex about the babies in the NICU, offering up advice when possible, the way she put on a brave face for their daughter so Devony didn't have to be any more scarred by this experience than she already was, the way she could look at him and see past all his bullshit and pretenses and know exactly what he was thinking.

Even half dead in a hospital bed, nobody could compare.

The beeping of the microwave roused him, letting him know that life went on while he stood there like he was made of marble. He opened the microwave unthinkingly, hurriedly, only focused on getting back to Addison. "Shit! Ouch, ow!" Derek yelled as burning sauce spilled all over his hand when he dropped the piping hot container. "Dammit," he muttered as he bent to clean it off the floor and salvage what was left.

He'd made the sauce himself, from scratch, to go over Addison's favorite mushroom ravioli. So carefully concocted in the trailer last night, with Devony's eager assistance, half of it now coated the floor of the attending's locker room.

Leaving her alone in her hospital room to face the demons of her nightmares was like physically ripping open his chest and pulling his heart out. But he was only human, and much as he tried to deny incessant needs such as food, rest, and even oxygen, he was of course unable to.

"You're not God, Derek," Addison had laughed once upon a time.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, honey, but you're not -"

"Wait, did you just call me honey? Don't call me honey!" he'd snapped, jaded beyond belief that she had the nerve to use such an endearing term, although deep down he knew it was only habit.

"Fine, you're not God, Dr. Shepherd," she'd corrected while rolling her eyes.

But he would be, for her. He'd resurrect legend of old and decipher their secrets so that he could stay by her side, always. So he could protect her and never let her fall again.

"Shepherd, Addison wants you. She – holy shit, what the hell happened?" Richard asked, poking his head inside the door only to see his star neurosurgeon covered in red.

"It's just sauce, Richard," Derek told him tiredly. "What was that about Addison?"

"She woke up while you were gone. Izzie and Alex were in there, just checking her stats, but she didn't recognize them at first and freaked out. They tried to calm her down, but … she fell out of the bed."

"Shit," Derek breathed.

"Yeah. We had to get another CT, to check out her head since she just had surgery … but we had a hard time getting her to leave the room."

"Why?" Derek wanted to know.

"Why do you think, Derek?" Richard asked, as if it was obvious. "She wants to be Addison the best neonatal surgeon in the damn country, not Addison the kidnapped rape victim."

Derek ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather himself enough mentally to deal with what had happened to her. It was a fight he was constantly losing, a fight not to go insane every time the pain and humiliation made her eyes overflow. He followed Richard mindlessly, trying not to dwell on Addison's fragility, which rivaled that of glass. How long before she shattered?

"Addie, are you okay?" he asked as the door to her ICU room slid open, revealing her emaciated form propped up on several pillows.

"Yeah," she said hoarsely. "Tell Izzie and Alex I'm sorry, will you? I didn't mean to fight them, or to fall, but I didn't realize it was them at first …"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, walking quickly to his chair by her bed, where he spent the majority of his time these days. "They understand. I made you something," he said with his best McDreamy smile when she displayed a lack of reaction, and unearthed two bowls of the ravioli, placing one on her tray and one on his lap.

"Mushroom?" she asked, and he nodded.

The significance of the gesture would have been lost on anyone else, but much as she loathed admitting it, Addison was a terrible, burn the toast, destroy the kitchen kind of cook. When they dated, Derek always cooked, and he continued to do so throughout most of their marriage. However, in later years when the walls began to crumble and the hospital became more his home than his own house, him not cooking had been the first sign of the deterioration of their marriage.

"I'll always take care of you," he had told her so many years ago. He had been determined to do the things her parents never did, to light up the girl who never smiled unless someone else was around. Him leaving her to her own devices in the case of food had been the second crack in the foundation, Evelyn the comparatively larger first.

Addison surveyed the bowl silently, as if she had forgotten how to eat. He shuddered to think of what her kidnappers had fed her, or even if they'd fed her at all. It was pitiful watch her gingerly pick up the fork, hand trembling, and try to feed herself.

"Here," he said, leaning forward to stab a ravioli on the fork for her. Her movements were slow and jerky, the entire process of eating almost painful, but Derek observed attentively; ready to help where he was needed.

"Why aren't you eating?" she wanted to know when she looked over and saw his full bowl.

"I'm not hungry, I don't really feel that good," he admitted."

"You can leave if you want to," she offered, and he guessed the true meaning behind her words. He didn't have to sit here and help feed her shipwreck of a self.

"I'm not leaving, Addie," he said calmly, and although he'd told her the same thing many times now, he knew he'd have to say it many times more before it truly sank in. They sat in silence as minute after minute ticked away slowly, both unsure of the future they were heading toward.

Finally she spoke. "It was dark."

"Sorry?" Derek asked, bewildered by the out-of-context sentence.

Addison inhaled deeply, and then winced as her hand flew to her ribs. She seemed to be struggling to speak, to find words, and Derek didn't find out why until they'd started down a path on which they could never retrace their steps. "It was dark, that night. In LA. I was tired and hungry and I missed Devony and you and I was just trying to get to my rental car …" Here her voice broke, and Derek was struck again by the unfairness of it all. Why Addison?

This was not a discussion he ever really wanted to have, but he knew Addison needed to have it, needed to release some of the poisonous memories lurking inside her. Hearing her talk about being beaten and abused and touched and raped was one of the hardest things he ever did, harder than hearing about it from other people or seeing her injuries himself. He wished there was a way to shield her, to force a barrier between her and the ordeals she'd endured, but none existed. All he could do was listen in agony.

"And … I was almost there. It was dark, but the streetlamps were on, and when I walked under one this guy came up behind me. He said something suggestive, I don't even know what anymore, and in my impatience to get away I didn't realize there were others behind me, just waiting for me to turn around."

He just nodded, sensing that it would be hard for her to continue if she was interrupted. "And one of them hit me and I fell and then they were all doing it and it hurt so bad that when the darkness came I welcomed it. I tried to get away, but they were so strong and they just laughed. And before I blacked out, I remember wondering … if you would care. If you would notice that I was gone."

A soft clanging sound filled the hair, and he realized it was from her shaking hand bumping her spoon up against her empty bowl. He wanted desperately to say that of course he would have noticed, but it wasn't true. He hadn't found out she was missing until a month after she was taken, when the daughter he'd never met showed up in the hospital, overturning the life he'd carefully crafted out of desperation, infatuation, and denial. So he let her continue spinning her sad tale, guilt slowly rotting his insides until he literally felt nauseous.

"When I woke up, I was lost, and for the longest time I couldn't remember what happened, and I was alone. But then they noticed that I was awake, and they crawled into the back of the van. I tried to stand up, to fight them off … but they broke my leg. It was so easy for them, they snapped it like a twig, and then they laughed, because somehow my pain was really funny … And we drove for a long, long time. I pretended to be asleep most of the time so they would leave me alone, but sometimes they'd wake me up on purpose. Sometimes they'd try to make me scream. Sometimes they'd touch me, even when I was sleeping, and I could feel it even in my dreams …"

Each word was torture, anger overtaking him like an unstoppable flood. Although crisp white sheets covered her, he knew her body was covered in bruises. He was trembling just as violently as she was now, but while Addison struggled to find the strength to go on with her story, Derek tried to dissuade himself from punching a hole in the wall.

"The warehouse was worse," she whispered, and he had to lean in closer to make out her words. "It was Mexico, so the warehouse was hot in the day and cold at night, and it was so humid that the air felt as thick as honey … sometimes I could barely breathe. They gave us just enough food and water to keep us alive. They say you can only live for three days without water, but that's not true. I know they didn't always give us water every three days."

"I was scared, the first time, because it felt like I had lost control and was suddenly flying through the sky. I never did drugs, Derek, but eventually I realized that was why they poked us with needles every couple of days. They're terrible, they turn your thoughts into twisted nightmares and make everything so sharp and glittery … and they make you powerless, too dazed to fight or flee."

Here she paused, and Derek knew the bad part was coming, and there was no way for him to avoid the rapidly approaching storm. It was horrible to have to hear her reliving it, but if she'd been strong enough to experience it, he could be strong enough to hear about it. He hadn't held her hand since the first time she'd let him, almost two weeks ago, but when she relinquished her death grip on the bowl and her hand fluttered towards his nervously, he knew it was what she wanted.

Their skin connected, forming a link between souls. And Derek discovered it wasn't only Addison who had get through this and heal, they had to do it together. It was the only way. They were too weak on their own, mere mortals when apart, but together, there wasn't anything that could ignore their love. Old love and new love, endurance and rebirth, flowed through him as surely as it flowed through her. After waiting for her for months, years really, Derek was ready to accept it, ready to rebuild what they once had. But Addison was nowhere near ready. She had to stitch herself up before she could open up to him again.

Still, unrecognized as his love was, it enabled her to tell him the hardest thing he ever had to hear. "They were busy selling their drugs during the day, but at night? That warehouse became the ninth circle of hell. The only way I can explain what happened is that to them, we must have been less than human, because they were unaffected by the screams of their victims. I heard them screaming while they were raped, Derek, because they weren't gentle. I know from experience. I wish I didn't know. But I do."

He would have given anything to spare Addison from having to tell him what she said next. He also wondered how she'd be able to tell anyone else, because how could anyone who understood her less achieve the modicum of comprehension he did? "The first time, I woke up in the middle of it. I knew it would happen eventually. I can't decide if it was better that way or not. There were lots of them, I don't know how many, taking turns. I also don't know why they needed a gun; it wasn't like I could have done anything to stop them. Sometimes it was just such an effort to breathe. And I woke up and I could feel him in me and inside I was screaming … and that was only the first one. I don't remember all of them, or how many times they did it, or even their faces, because sometimes I was unconscious. But somewhere along the way, I think I died."

"But you aren't dead, Addie," he reminded her gently, trying to conceal his sudden alarm.

"No, Derek, I'm not. But I think my soul might be."

"Please don't say that, Addison. You have no idea – I die a little more each time you say something like that! You can heal from this – you can recover from it!"

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically.

"Of course I'm sure," he said in a voice that boded no argument. He would not let Addison defeat herself before she even tried.

They could not undo that which time had already woven. But he could melt the fear that entrapped her in hope of a better future.

~ Addison ~

Was he really there to stay? Could she truly trust in that? Because if he left again, he'd be leaving behind irreparable ruins of a person who had slowly wasted away. Hurt the first time he left her, damaged the second, dead the third. If there was no Derek, who would push away the darkness? She'd been doing it for so long that it had built up resistance to her. Derek was a good person, radiating life and love. Without him, she would be utterly destroyed.

She wanted to believe they would never be separated again, save by death in the last days of their lives, just like she wanted to believe she could heal. But wanting to believe and actually being able to did not walk hand in hand, one did not guarantee the other.

And she still remembered what it was like without him, all the times she needed him and he wasn't there.

New York ~ 7 months ago

Rain fell softly on the streets of New York, creating shimmering puddles in the dim light cast by streetlamps. Addison clutched Devony tighter to her chest, trying to juggle the three year old and her bag as well as keep them both as dry as possible. Carrying an umbrella was out of the question, and unless she woke Devony up so she could walk, which she was loath to do because her daughter was sleeping so peacefully, there was no avoiding getting wet.

Finally mother and daughter made it out of the rain and into the brownstone, the warm air and scent of old Chinese food, products made in Devony's Easy Bake Oven, and kid shampoo rushing out to meet them. She thought about waking her daughter then, but after an impossible day at the hospital she didn't think seeing him in her eyes would make her night any more bearable.

Why? she would occasionally demand of whatever god existed. Why did Derek's eyes have to light up Devony's angel-worthy face? Every time she looked into those heaven colored orbs she saw her ex-husband, and the memories were so painful they loosed her grip on life just a little bit.

She'd adjusted, changed over the four years since leaving Derek. The liquor in the cabinets was replaced by juice boxes, caviar by fruit snacks, and the once spotless floors were littered with Devony's many toys. Instead of spending her Saturdays reading the latest medical journals or at the hospital, she spent them playing fairies with Devony in Central Park, or dolls in her princess themed room. Derek's side of the sink was taken over by her daughter, and bubble gum toothpaste took the place once held by shaving cream, and earrings and hair things poked out of the drawers instead of Derek's plethora of hair products.

That didn't mean that his nonexistence in her life hurt any less.

Sighing, Addison began the long trek up the stairs of the brownstone, praying that the sound of her heels against the marble would not wake Devony. She managed to get to the softly lit lavender bedroom, decorated like a princess's castle in the hopes that Devony's prince, unlike her mother's, would actually love her.

Devony woke as Addison pulled her lime green boots off (she was always dressed the best of any kid) and felt for Pluffie. Once the giraffe was located, Devony watched as Addison hunted for pajamas in her white dresser. But when it came time to actually put them on, Devony demonstrated her stubborn streak. She had never been an easy child, blessed or cursed, whichever way you looked at it, with Derek's pigheadedness and Addison's strong willed, commanding personality.

"No, Mommy, I don't want pajamas."

"Come on, Dev. They're footie pajamas, your favorite," Addison coaxed to no avail.

"No. I don't want to go to bed. I want to stay up forever and ever," she said, flashing the smile that more often than not resulted in her getting her own way.

"Sorry, baby, but it's eleven thirty at night. You have to go to bed," Addison sighed.

"No!"

"Pluffie is tired. Pluffie is walking toward his bed," Addison said, walking toward the bed with Pluffie in her hand. "The sun is sleeping, and it's time for you to sleep as well."

"But the moon isn't sleeping, Mommy. I want to stay up with the moon."

"Devony Montgomery Shepherd, I said time for bed," Addison said in a firm voice. She hated to reprimand Devony, to deny her more things than just her father, but that was the impossible line all mothers walked. How much to give, how much to take.

"Mommy, no!" Devony whined as Addison carefully undressed her. She struggled, and Addison tried to hold on while still being gentle.

"Dev, please," Addison begged, at the end of her rope after a full day of surgeries. She'd operated on a baby named Evelyn, and the baby lived, but she was still unsure how she'd lived through it without Derek.

"No!" Devony said, giving one final pull and tumbling away from her mother, grinning as she rolled all around the floor. "You can't catch me, Mommy!"

Addison fought the tears building up in her eyes, but eventually she could restrain them no longer and broke down sobbing. Devony watched, surprised, as Addison sank down beside her, tears making deep black streaks down her cheeks. She was sure Derek would have known what to say to get Devony into bed, but Derek wasn't there. Only she was.

Seattle Grace ~ present

Loud giggling interrupted her reflection of times minus Derek, and the object of her recollections ran into the room, black curls flying as she and Tuck ran in to hide behind Derek.

"Dev, what did you do?" Derek asked in slight horror. She and Tuck only smiled innocently, and Addison found herself smiling as well, knowing that whatever they had done couldn't have been good.

Two sets of eyes rife with mischief, one pair brilliant blue and the other warm brown, peered around Derek's legs as Richard, Mark, Miranda, and Izzie entered the room.

"Tuck! What has Mommy told you about drawing on Dr. Richard's surgery board?" Miranda scolded.

Tuck only grinned, revealing pearly white teeth to his mother.

"We drew lots of things," Devony announced, and Addison groaned in playful dread. Devony had the same ability her father did: to diminish the darkness surrounding Addison just with her presence. "Gwampa Richard's board looks much prettier now."

"We drew flowers and animals and Spiderman and princesses – I didn't want to draw the princesses, but Devony said I had to," Tuck informed them.

"Who was supposed to be watching them?" Derek wanted to know.

"Unca Mark," Devony giggled. "He fell asleep, so we made him pretty."

"What do you mean you made him pretty?" Addison asked cautiously, and actually laughed out loud when Mark turned to her and she saw lipstick smeared all over his face. Everyone turned at the sound of her laugh, and even she was surprised. Still, telling Derek her most sinister secrets had had a liberating affect – now that they shared the burden, it seemed much smaller and easier to bear.

"Yeah, look what your kid did to me. She's more of a troublemaker than you were," Mark muttered to cover up the awkward moment.

"I'm not a troublemaker," Addison protested.

"Ahem," Richard said. "Let me think, you and Derek as interns: held a party in the basement of the hospital, started a drinking contest on hospital property, TPed my office, tried to fix up patients together, had sex in every on-call room in the building … I know there's more I'm forgetting."

"What did she do to you?" Mark asked Izzie.

"Oh, uh … nothing. I just came to tell Addison that a Bizzy Montgomery is here to see her," Izzie said nervously. Clearly, she'd met Bizzy.

The light, playful mood evaporated instantly, and Mark, Richard, and Derek exchanged bleak looks. Addison felt like she herself was about to throw up – she hadn't seen Bizzy since she burst into the brownstone the day after Derek left, telling her how ridiculous and stupid she was, never mind that Bizzy herself had had several affairs. Not to mention that Addison had never told Bizzy that she had a granddaughter, hoping to protect the little girl from both her grandparents.

"It's okay, Addie," Derek said after a quick conversation with Mark, who left to presumably get rid of Bizzy. "You don't have to see her."

"Yes she does," said a voice from the doorway, a voice that had routinely told her over the years what a failure she was and how she wasn't good enough. Bizzy walked in, clearly enjoying the effect she'd created. She shook her head when she saw Addison, and all the old feelings of inadequacy came rushing back. "So. You're alive," she said, and Addison was unable to answer through swamping shame and dislike.

The only good thing about the situation was that she'd had the sense not to bring Addison's father.

"Is that Cruella de Vil?" Tuck asked upon seeing Bizzy enter the room, designer labels complementing perfectly coiffed white curls.

"No, that's my bad grandma," Devony answered.

So, I know it wasn't the most exciting chapter ever, but Derek and Addison had a lot to deal with. Things really pick up in the next one! Anyway, I'd love to know what you thought!
One a side note, has anyone ever seen the movie Three Below Zero? I found it on YouTube at like three in the morning last night … or this morning, really, I guess. Anyway Kate Walsh is in it (which is why I watched it) and it was made in like 1998 … and yeah it was a strange, strange movie.