Thank you so much! As always, for the reviews and comments. Rockstar reviewers, you know who you are and piping in every chapter makes me wants to write more and update faster, so thank you extra much. I'm probably going to have to step back from frequent updates for a bit, so here's a nice long chapter in the meantime. I hope you enjoy.

tangled up in blue
...

For a moment after Steve lets slip that, unbeknownst to Nancy, he's been speaking with Amy about Jesse's issues, everyone is silent.

Nancy's eyes are wide with accusation; Amy shifts uncomfortably next to Derek.

"Nancy," Steve says quietly, "I spoke to Amy about Jess, because I was concerned."

"How could you do this? How could you involve her – with my child –"

"He's my child too," Steve continues calmly, "and he needed help. More help than we could give him. Amy understood – "

"Don't talk about Amy to me," Nancy cuts in.

"Honey," Steve says patiently, "I'm sorry you're finding out this way, but Amy has been helpful, she has Jesse's best interest at heart."

"Tell me, something, honey. Why are you taking her side?" Nancy's gaze is deadly. "What exactly did my baby sister do to get you to think she does anything but screw up everything she touches?"

The meaning behind Nancy's question is clear, and Derek sees anger flash across Steve's face at the veiled accusation. He doesn't raise his voice but his tone makes it obvious how serious he is.

"Don't embarrass yourself, Nancy."

Derek sees two spots of color rise on her prominent cheekbones.

"Don'tdefend Amy in my house," she hisses.

Tension crackles in the air; Derek exchanges a glance with Amy, who looks uncomfortable.

"Maybe we should go," Amy says quickly.

"You should never have come," Nancy spits.

"Thank you so much for everything. You should be able to hail a cab on Clinton," Steve says. He turns to include Derek in the conversation: "Are the two of you headed in the same direction?"

"Amy's living with Mark and Addison," Nancy informs Steve coldly. "She's probably sleeping with him too."

"Shut up, Nancy," Amy says tiredly.

"Because if you're not heading the same way," Steve continues calmly as if no one interrupted him, "we can call my car service. Getting two cabs might be-"

"Would you stop giving them directions!" Nancy rages.

"Nancy, lower your voice," Steve says firmly. "The kids can hear you."

Nancy looks torn; Derek has a feeling she might choose upsetting her children as long as she can tear into Amy. Amy, perhaps recognizing this, already has her hand on the doorknob. "I'm leaving, Nance, okay? I'm sorry I upset you," she adds, rather generously, Derek thinks, and Nancy ignores her.

"Thank you," Steve says quietly to Amy and Derek sees a look pass between them that isn't going to help matters if Nancy noticed too.

Nancy's head swings like a three-way tennis match from Amy to Derek to Steve and back again and Derek winces, well aware from growing up with Nancy that one of the surest triggers of her temper is feeling ganged-up on.

Nancy turns on her husband as soon as the door closes behind Amy. "I want you out of this house."

"No," he says calmly, "it's my house too, and I'm not leaving the kids, and I'm not leaving you when you're like this. Just settle down so we can talk about it."

"You're not going to go? Fine. You stay, I'll go." Nancy's lips are trembling. "And I'm taking the girls with me."

"No, you're not. Joy's injured and she needs to rest. Sarah's shaken up. Jess is … They've all been through enough. Let's just calm down, say good night to Derek, and then the two of us can talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you," she snaps. "Not after what you did."

"Then I'll talk and you can listen."

"I'm going to go too," Derek says quickly when there's a break in their argument. "Nancy – I'm sorry," he adds; she ignores him.

"Thank you for helping, Derek," Steve says, and then glances toward the living room. "Joy seemed okay when you checked her out?"

Derek nods. "You might want to get her scanned anyway."

"We will. I want to talk to a buddy of mine at Methodist anyway, see if he has thoughts on Jess."

Nancy is angled away from Derek, arms folded, shoulders radiating tension, so he takes the easiest way out and gives her a nod on his way out.

Just another nice, calm day with the Shepherd family.

…

Meredith adds more warm water to the tub three times before the girls are ready to get out. She's pleased to see that the bath seems to have calmed Viv.

Vivian fishes a pair of pajamas out of the canvas tote bag Mark sent with her – pink with a pattern of red hearts, they seem like another relic of a more cheerful child Meredith hasn't met. She's impressed at how well-equipped the bag is. "You can fit a lot of things in there," she smiles at Viv, "it's like Mary Poppins's bag."

Viv looks up. "You know Mary Poppins?"

"Oh, yeah. That's a great movie." It was one of Meredith's favorite, growing up. She eschewed movies with benevolent parents – that was too far from her own experience to be worth fantasies. Loving surrogates, though? Like a nanny? That she could do.

"It's my mom's favorite from my movies," Viv says.

Meredith smiles at her, thinking she and Addison might have a little more in common than she initially realized. She helps Vivian change, noting how self-sufficient she is – even wringing out her own little swimsuit and hanging both pieces neatly in the bathroom to dry.

While Zola sits beside them in her cute purple bathrobe, Meredith offers to help Vivian fix her hair, which is hanging in long messy pieces around her little face. Strands of it are crisp from the soapy bubbles – she hadn't wanted to pin it up – and Viv is toying with the stringy ends.

A shadow crosses the little girl's face at Meredith's question. "No," she says abruptly.

"Okay," Meredith is worried she might have offended her. "That's fine, sweetie, we don't need to-"

"When is my dad coming?" Viv interrupts, folding her arms.

Meredith smiles as reassuringly as she can, but luckily Zola keeps her from having to answer: delighted by Viv's heart-printed pajamas, she wants to put on her own.

And that's why when the doorman finally calls up to announce Mark's arrival, Meredith is flanked by two little girls in brightly-colored summer pajamas.

Mark returns with a large pizza box topped with a sizable paper bag, and when Vivian runs toward him Meredith envisions smashed tomato sauce and cheese all over the hallway – but Mark squats to catch her with one arm and stands up with Viv, the pizza, and the accessories all in one piece.

Meredith is impressed.

"I played some football in college," Mark smiles. "And I'm used to getting tackled by this one." He kisses the side of Vivian's head and indicates the pizza box, then turns to Zola, who is staring up at him with interest.

"Hey Zola, you hungry? Do you like pizza?"

"I like pizza," Zola says eagerly.

"I can take that." Meredith relieves Mark of the pizza box and bag and brings them to the kitchen table.

Mark is still holding Viv. "Wearing jammies already? Is it later than I thought, or are you having a slumber party?"

Viv looks down at her heart-printed pajamas and shrugs.

Mark glances at Meredith and must see something on her face, because he sets Viv on her feet. "Go wash your hands before we eat," he instructs, and Meredith sends Zola with her.

"I gave the girls a bath," Meredith says when they're alone.

"Oh. Viv likes the water." Mark seems to realize there's more to the story.

"Vivian fell asleep when we were watching a movie during the storm – actually, we all fell asleep – but she seemed to have a nightmare and was pretty upset. She suggested the bath herself and it really seemed to help-"

She stops talking abruptly, confused by the look of pain on Mark's face. For one terrible moment she's afraid he's going to cry. Then he sinks down into one of the kitchen chairs.

"I didn't say anything. I'm so sorry." He looks miserably at her. "I can't believe I didn't think to – she never sleeps during the day, not away from home. She must have been comfortable here." He takes a deep breath and Meredith listens as he gives her the beginning brush strokes of a picture of sleep disturbance that sounds incredibly difficult for both child and parent.

"She didn't nap for very long," Meredith says tentatively.

"Yeah. She has atypical sleep patterns anyway. Advanced REM stages – that she gets from me. I didn't learn all this until we had them do a sleep study when the problems started. But I remember being a kid and I'd wake up from, you know, a catnap or whatever and I knew I'd been dreaming but I shouldn't have been, y'know, not yet. Anyway."

"Did you sleepwalk, when you were young?" Meredith asks.

"No, but Addison did." He grimaces. "The combination is … problematic, especially under stress, but she'll grow out of it. That's what happened to Addie, around the age Viv is now. So. We're hoping."

There's a moment of silence while Meredith imagines they're both contemplating the concept of hope and then both girls return to the kitchen with sparkling clean hands.

They sit around the kitchen table – Meredith didn't realize how hungry she was, and the pizza smells heavenly. Zola takes a few bites, gives Mark a tomato-stained thumbs up, and then requests salad.

Meredith picks vegetables out of the salad for Zola – she loves cucumbers and olives especially – slicing them smaller out of habit even though she really doesn't need that anymore.

She smiles as Zola happily piles the vegetables into her mouth, then chases them with a bite of pizza.

Vivian, meanwhile, is sitting cross-legged in her chair, leaning back away from the table and twirling a scallop-edged carrot slice between her fingers.

"Vivi." Mark takes the carrot from her. "How about eating some food instead of just playing with it?"

Vivian scowls. She hasn't touched the piece of pizza Mark placed in front of her, or the little pile of salad next to it – other than playing with the carrot.

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something, Viv."

She pushes her plate away and stands up, leaning against Mark's chair.

"Come on, baby, sit down and take a few bites," he coaxes, but she pulls away when he tries to take her on his lap.

"Can I go play?"

"Not until you eat something. … Viv, come back here," he calls when she disappears into the living room anyway.

Mark sighs. "I'm sorry. It's a battle to get her to eat anything lately. Except candy. At this rate she'll end up with a mouthful of false teeth and maybe scurvy but at least she won't starve to death."

His words are brash, even joking, but Meredith sees real fear in his eyes.

"I'm sure I could handle it a hell of a lot better," he admits. "Not just the food. Everything. I don't know. It's been tough on her."

It's been tough on him too, she thinks. On all three of them.

To Mark, Meredith just nods sympathetically. "She did end up finishing most of her frozen yogurt earlier, if that helps. And she had a juice box after she … woke up."

"Liquid candy." Mark raises his eyes to the heavens. "I guess that's something. Thank you," he adds quickly, "really, you've been so good with her and I know she's not easy, not these days."

"She's a great kid," Meredith says firmly.

Mark opens his mouth and then closes it again. "Thanks." His tone is gruff and he looks away.

Vivian appears in the doorway again, reluctantly. She drags her feet all the way to Mark's side and he lifts her onto his lap as soon as she's close enough to snag.

"You have to eat something, Vivi. Come on," he says quietly.

"But I don't like pizza."

"Everyone likes pizza," he says, sounding much more cheerful now that Viv is back in the room. "Plus this is from the place you said you liked, remember?" He points to the box. "We went there and you…"

Mark stops talking, and Meredith can only assume that the rest of the story involves Addison, too.

"No, I don't like it," Vivian whines, turning her head into his shoulder.

"Okay. I guess we should probably get going." Mark looks rather longingly at his own pizza and Meredith is pretty sure she hears his stomach growl.

"Why don't you finish eating first," Meredith suggests, sensing he feels the need for permission. "You must be starving."

"Yeah. Okay." Mark takes another bite of his pizza, then glances down at Vivian, who's curled up on his lap now. "Hey." He shifts her gently. "I don't want you to fall asleep yet, baby."

"I'm not," she says defensively, rubbing her eyes.

He sits her up against him. "Take a bite," he suggests, holding out his slice of pizza and after a moment she leans forward and takes a small, grudging bite.

"How was that?" he asks after she swallows.

"Bad," she says solemnly, and Meredith has to admire her commitment.

Actually, the pizza is great. Worth living in New York City? Probably not. But it's great.

Vivian ends up taking a few more bites as part of a complex blackmail scheme, supported by Zola, to finish watching the movie that served as the background for their earlier nap.

"I think Meredith and Zola probably want some time to themselves, Viv," Mark says gently.

Meredith assures him it's fine, and they set both girls up in the living room with the DVD Zola selected earlier –

"Trash Panda?" Mark reads, laughing. "What kind of movie are you showing these kids?"

Meredith smiles. "It was a present from a friend. She was trying to prove a point about kids' movies and animals and … it's about a family of raccoons, nothing worse than that."

"I don't know. Raccoons are pretty terrible."

They both watch the girls for a moment, sitting side by side on the couch in their pajamas. Zola is holding her stuffed kangaroo, and Meredith is touched to see she's provided Viv with a plush piglet in case she, too, wants to hold an animal.

Meredith glances at Mark. To say he looks drawn is an understatement; his face is practically grey. "You want some coffee?"

He nods, and they withdraw to the kitchen, where they can talk without the girls hearing but still keep an eye on them.

Meredith brews coffee, its scent alone helping to revive her, sticking to innocuous small talk and occasionally looking over at Mark to see how he's doing.

The kitchen chairs seem too small for him, like he's trying to sit in a dollhouse. She doesn't remember his seeming this large, this out of place, the other time she met him. Then again, she recalls Addison being pretty tall and imposing herself, perhaps side by side they blended into each other.

When they're sitting across from each other holding matching earthenware mugs provided by the furnished apartment, Meredith remembers Vivian's seeming desire to talk about her mother. She's been hesitant to ask Mark how Addison is doing, but maybe he's also starved for opportunities to talk about her.

Only one way to find out.

"How … did today go?" She kicks herself inwardly for the way she phrased the question.

"The tests?" Mark shrugs. "And the meetings. It was a long day. A long, unresolved day."

Meredith nods uncertainly, not sure what he means.

"Derek told you she's refusing treatment?"

She nods again.

"Yeah, it's true but it's not the whole story. Not exactly. She … considers it," he pronounces the words carefully. "We've been back and forth, in and out of the place – she was on the schedule at MCH this week but I don't think anyone was surprised when she cancelled. It would be easier, maybe, if she just said no outright but I don't want that either. So … she considers it."

Meredith tries to understand.

"There are neoadjuvant therapies – she's incredibly resistant to it, despite her experience with patients – successful experience! And there's surgery. Which could probably have been avoided altogether," he grimaces, "but now that she's waited this long, may end up being the best option. Except she doesn't want to do it until she's far enough along that she can deliver if there's fetal distress during surgery."

Meredith notices that he speaks only in terms of Addison, and not the child she's carrying: until she's far enough along, not until the baby is far enough along.

"You know she's a fetal surgeon?"

Meredith nods.

"She's taken on some crazy cases. There's no … fetus, unborn baby, whatever, that she doesn't want to try to save. It makes her a great doctor. But it's going to end up killing her."

He stops talking abruptly, and apologizes. Meredith shakes her head, indicating there's no need to apologize. They're speaking in quiet tones; the girls are absorbed in the movie in the other room. Mark looks pained, glancing out into the living room, and Meredith sees he must be considering the child already born who could lose her mother to save the child she's carrying.

It's impossible. It's … Solomonic, and Meredith rests a hand almost unconsciously on the slight swell of her belly and is flooded with guilty relief that she doesn't have to make that choice herself.

"I'm so sorry," she offers the words quietly, knowing they're not enough.

"Be sorry for her, not me," Mark says grimly. He glances at Meredith. "You probably already think I'm a terrible person."

"I don't think that."

"Well, maybe you should. I, uh, I told her she was playing Russian Roulette with all our lives."

"It's understandable," Meredith says, "being angry."

"I threatened her with Viv." Mark is staring past Meredith, looking utterly bereft. "I told her … that if she didn't mind dying and leaving a five-year-old behind then she might as well say goodbye now. I said I wouldn't bring her back."

He pauses. "That was when she was in the hospital the second time. No – the third."

Meredith just listens. The pain on his face, in his voice, is obvious. The self-flagellation just makes it worse.

He looks miserably at Meredith. "What kind of person does that?"

"A person who's scared," she says tentatively, then more firmly. "A person who doesn't want to lose his wife and is trying to protect his daughter."

His face is buried in his oversized hands and Meredith is thankful that the view from the living room is blocked. She gives him a moment before she speaks.

"Did you?"

Her probe is gentle and if she's wrong it might make things worse – but she doesn't think she's wrong.

"Did I what?"

"Keep Vivian away from her."

He shakes his head. "I couldn't do that."

"You're not a terrible person, Mark."

He glances up at her. "Thanks. You, uh, haven't heard the whole thing, though."

Before he can say anything else, the end credit song of Trash Panda echoes from the living room, and four little bare feet slap the parquet floors into the kitchen.

The girls are both bleary-eyed after their long day, and Meredith refuses Mark's offer to help clean up and ushers him and Vivian, toward the door. "Say goodbye and thank you to Meredith," he instructs her, one hand on the knob.

"Bye, thank you," Vivian mumbles, lifting her head just enough for the words to be audible before laying it back down again on Mark's shoulder.

"Anytime. Thanks for coming over, Viv, and thank you for playing so nicely with Zola."

"Do you want a hand or …" Her voice trails off. They do this all the time.

"Nah, we're good." Mark hoists the canvas tote bag higher on his shoulder, pats Vivian's little back, and then they're off.

Meredith exhales for what she's pretty sure is the first time since what feels like a lifetime ago – when she couldn't find the girls, and discovered them on the terrace.

"Mama … where'd Vivi go?"

Meredith scoops Zola into her arms. "Home, so she and her daddy can go to bed."

"Oh." Zola considers this. "Is it bedtime?"

"Yes." Thank god.

Zola is smiling, and Meredith kisses one soft cheek. "How was your day with Viv?" she asks tentatively.

"So fun," Zola breathes happily. "Again, tomorrow?"

Not unless Mommy can add tequila to her morning coffee.

"Um … we'll see, sweetie," she tells Zola as brightly as she can.

…

Amy is sitting out on the stoop when he shuts the front door behind him, hot air moving gently around in something almost like a breeze.

Derek sits down next to her. "I didn't sleep with him," Amy says without looking up, her voice small. "I didn't do anything with him."

"Of course you didn't. No one thinks you did, Amy. Nancy's just … being Nancy. She's scared."

"I did sleep with Mark, though. I mean, before he and Addison got together, but …" Her voice trails off.

"I don't really need to hear this, Amy."

"Right." She pauses. "Derek, was I ever like that? Like Jesse was, I mean, like … violent?"

"No." He glances at her. "Well, you did slap Addison once, but she's a fairer match to you than Joy is to Jess."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Not like Jess, though. You, uh, slapped like a girl. And then … Addison slapped you back. A lot harder," he recalls, wincing slightly at the memory.

"Really?" Amy sounds fascinated. "Wow. I don't remember that."

"Well, it's not exactly Addie's favorite story, it never came up much after you … afterwards." Derek pauses, smiling a little. "It is one of Nancy's favorite stories, but Steve can usually keep her from retelling it too often."

"How did they leave it, has Nancy killed him yet?"

"I think Steve can handle himself." He's certainly the only person Derek has ever seen who can handle Nancy.

Amy nods. "Steve's a good guy," she says.

"He is."

Amy hugs her knees. "How is Nancy married to someone like Steve and I'm the one who's still single?"

"Nancy has good qualities," he says tentatively.

Amy considers it. "I guess she was pretty hot before she got knocked up four times."

"Amy." He nudges her with his shoulder, and she nudges him back. They sit side by side for a few minutes, gathering strength before they walk the blocks Steve recommended to hail the cab that will bring them home.

…

Meredith pulls open the door before Derek can turn the key and they fall into each other, breathing in familiar scents combined with the heat of the city.

"How was your day?" Derek asks warily, drawing back and tucking a lock of hair behind one of her ears.

Meredith studies his face. "From the looks of it … about the same as yours."

With Zola asleep, they take the baby monitor into the bathroom and turn on the shower.

"You first," Meredith prompts, when the first sprays of hot water have started to relax them.

"Where do I begin?" Derek pauses. "Okay. Get ready for this. If you can follow along, it means you're a true Shepherd. My sister accused my other sister of sleeping with her husband when actually the other sister was trying to help her husband help his son. What do you think?"

"I think it kind of makes sense … if the first sister is Nancy and the other sister is Amy."

"You really do get my family, Mer."

She smiles wryly. "What's wrong with your nephew?"

"Nothing a little rehab can't fix."

She raises her eyebrows. "Oh, no. How old-"

"Fifteen."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." He doesn't share Amy's description of the addiction gene running through their family. It seems imprudent when his hands are roaming over soft skin where their son – their son who will be one quarter Maloney – is growing.

"Did your nephew do that to you?"

Meredith is pointing at the livid bruise already standing out on his shin. "Jesse? No, that was one of my nieces and her excellent tennis forehand."

Meredith nods slowly. "Oh."

"She was trying to defend her sister – yes, from me, long story – then the other one ended up getting clocked in the face by my nephew."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She's a tough kid." He grimaces, leaving his own part in Joy's injuries out for now.

"And your nephew?"

"They're going to get him help. It's on them now; Amy and I bowed out." Before Nancy could kill her, he doesn't add.

"That sounds … like way too much for one day," Meredith pronounces.

"I agree. And your day? How was Viv … really, I mean?"

"Really?" Meredith pauses. "Really … I think she's going to need some serious therapy if she doesn't already, but she was very sweet with Zola. Patient. They played well together."

"Therapy?"

"She … might have locked herself in our bedroom for a while."

Derek shakes his head.

"And she has a lot to say about dead babies."

"I can't believe she has a lot to say about anything, to be honest," Derek says. "I don't think I've heard her string together more than three words, but Mark says she doesn't like new people. Amy was surprised she went with you."

"I think she really went with Zola and I was just a bystander, but … I think we connected. A little. Maybe."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Meredith glances at him. "And I talked to Mark for a while. When he came to pick her up."

"How'd that go?"

"He seems to think he's a terrible person … but I don't think he is."

"Ah. So it's not just the Shepherds you understand … it's Mark too." He massages her scalp and she practically purrs in response. Tension and soap bubbles run together down the drain.

"Mark's in a tough spot," Derek acknowledges.

"Yeah." Meredith sighs. "He thinks he's losing his wife and she could stop it if she wanted but she refuses," she summarizes, adding, "their situation sucks."

"It really does."

"Nancy's too." Meredith winces. "Poor Jesse. And the girls, too."

"I think I'm afraid to have teenagers," Derek admits.

"I think I'm afraid to have cancer," Meredith responds.

She leans against him, he holds her tightly and they stand under the spray, recuperating together.

To be continued. Finally, the McFamily is reunited! Long days all around. Coming up soon: dealing with Kathleen's run in with Mark, Addison makes a reappearance (finally!) and poor Carolyn Shepherd gets some post-surgery attention after taking a backseat to the other drama. Thank you again, so much, for reading. You are all wonderful and your reviews don't just make me smile - they make me prolific. I mean, maybe too much so, because my chapters are quite long ... but there you go. My author's notes are even longer. Still reading? You RULE. Gonna review? You rule even more. You know you want to press that button ...