A/N: Oh man, last full chapter. I'll save the rest of my author's notes for the epilogue, which I'll post tomorrow, but suffice it to say I'm so grateful to everyone who's been reading this story. It means a lot, and I love hearing what you think.

no one can change your life except for you

"Mommy?"

Addison wakes immediately at the nervous little voice, opening her eyes to see Annabel standing by the side of her bed.

"Bel … what's wrong, love?" She reaches for her daughter in the dark; when Annabel doesn't answer, Addison flicks on the bedside light.

Annabel looks fine, at least, tousle-haired from sleep in her favorite seashell pajamas, but she's twisting the hem of her top in a familiarly anxious gesture.

"Can I talk to you?"

Addison glances at the time. 3:26 a.m. Mark, miraculously, is still sleeping – then again, they perfected this pattern when the children were babies, so only one of them would have to wake up during the night each time.

"Of course you can," she whispers.

Annabel doesn't talk immediately, not until mother and daughter are seated across from each other on the couch under the window in the living area – with the curtains open, it's black night dotted with city lights – each holding a mug of hot chocolate.

Annabel takes a sip, then stares into her cup.

"What are you thinking about, sweetie?" Addison smiles encouragingly at her.

"Is Dr. Shepherd still in trouble?"

"What do you mean?"

Annabel thinks for a minute. "You know the meeting, before?"

The hearing. "Yes."

"And they said it was okay, right? That he's not in trouble?"

"Right," Addison agrees. It's more or less the explanation they gave her.

"But he's not working at the hospital, right? He's still on vacation with Thomas?"

Addison has to try not to smile at this endearing description of Derek's last two weeks. "He's not working at the hospital right now, sweetheart, but hopefully he will soon."

"'Cause there's another meeting tomorrow."

"Where did you…"

"In the car, you said."

Addison kicks herself somewhat, though she can't help feeling pleased at the idea that Annabel is sharp enough even after her ordeal to pick up on what she and Mark were muttering in the front seat while still playing a spirited game with Max in the back.

"Right, Bel, tomorrow the hospital is going to decide whether Dr. Shepherd can come back and work there."

"What if they say no?"

"If they say no, that will be very sad. But Dr. Shepherd is a great doctor and a lot of other hospitals will want him to come work there, and he'll be okay."

Annabel is nibbling on her lower lip, looking lost in thought. Addison reaches across the small space between them and gently touches her cheek. "Bel? Are you worried about something?"

Annabel shrugs.

"Are you worried about Dr. Shepherd's job? I promise you, he will have a great job. You don't have to worry about him, or about Dr. Grey and Thomas."

Addison thinks about what Mark told her, the concerns they discussed together that Annabel was tending to feel responsible for the decisions of those around her, that she felt guilty for Derek's choices. Addison's initial response to that was to feel guilty herself – she'd prefer to see her more positive characteristics reflected in her child – but she was hoping Annabel was feeling better after the positive result of the hearing.

"Bel," she says gently. "Talk to me, sweetheart, so I understand how you're feeling. I can't help you until I understand."

Annabel looks up at her with wide blue eyes. "I want to go to the meeting."

Addison is confused. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't get to go to the other meeting."

Get to. Addison is intrigued by the language. She herself was dreading it, though eager to help Derek, and it was an altogether unpleasant experience.

"You wanted to go to the other meeting," she reflects gently to prompt her daughter.

"Yeah. I know it's not my fault," Annabel says patiently, "but it's my brain he fixed."

"That's true."

"I want to help, Mom. I want to go to the meeting."

"Oh, Bel." Addison sets down her mug of hot chocolate on the low table in front of the couch. "That's very sweet that you want to help Dr. Shepherd. But this is a meeting that's just for people who make decisions for the hospital. Daddy and I aren't going – Dr. Shepherd isn't even going."

"Please?"

"Honey, it's not my decision. We're not invited."

"But even if I'm not invited, I could go still … and tell them."

"Tell them what, Bel?"

"Tell them … that Dr. Shepherd is good." Annabel looks up at her mother with an almost shy smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "That he was nice to me and he helped fix my brain and sometimes he does silly words for his memory tests and that's funny and … he should get a second chance at the hospital too."

Addison feels tears come to her own eyes. She takes the mug out of Annabel's hands and places it down on the table, then holds out her arms. Annabel crawls into her lap and snuggles close. For a few moments Addison just holds her, stroking her hair.

"That's what you want to tell them, huh?"

Annabel pulls back a little, her eyes dry now. "Yeah. That's what I want to tell them."

"Okay, sweetheart. I will … see if there's a way – Bel, I'm not promising anything," she warns quickly when her daughter starts grinning. "But I'll talk to your dad and we'll … see if there's a way to do this."

"Thank you, Mommy." Annabel snuggles close again. "I'm not tired now," she adds casually against the shoulder of Addison's pajama top.

"Great," Addison kisses the top of her head, then stands and, with some effort, hoists Annabel into her arms. "Was it the midnight snack? That might not have been Mommy's best idea."

"It's not midnight, it's a lot later than that," Annabel corrects happily.

Addison laughs a little into her daughter's hair. "I think you'll be tired once you lie down, love," she says soothingly, "and you need your rest, so let's get you back in bed." Addison walks as quietly as she can, Annabel in her arms, into the children's room where Max is sprawled on top of the covers of his bed in a virtual nest of dinosaurs, fast asleep.

"Bel?" Addison calls her daughter's name softly as she prepares to lower her into her bed, but Annabel doesn't answer.

She's already asleep.

..

"But we're not invited to the board meeting," Mark says, brow furrowed, much as Addison did several hours earlier when Annabel raised the topic. Both children are still sleeping, Mark and Addison drinking coffee in the hotel suite's kitchen.

"I know, but she's supposed to get a CT scan at eleven anyway, so we could … show up to the meeting and just …." Addison's voice trails off. "You think it's a terrible idea."

"No. I don't think it's a terrible idea." Mark glances at her. "You don't think she's just … feeling guilty?"

"I don't, actually. And as a fellow person-who-feels-guilty-a-lot … I think I can tell. I think she feels…" Addison pauses, trying to find the right word. "Empowered, actually. Or she would, if she could talk to the board."

"You think it would … empower her?"

"Kind of." Addison leans her hips against the counter. "Ever since she … got sick, everything's been out of her hands, you know? Poked and prodded, sedated, taken across the country, all those tests, the surgery … maybe it wouldn't be so bad for her to have a little power back in her hands."

"But it's not in her hands," Mark reminds her. "It's not in any of our hands. It's in the board's hands."

"The decision is in their hands, yes. But what she says, what she does, is in hers. Isn't that what we've been trying to tell her? That she's only responsible for herself?"

Mark nods. "There's still the little issue of our not being invited."

"That … may be more of a non-issue," Addison says. "We find the room, we open the door … who's going to say no to that face?" She gestures vaguely toward the children's room.

"True." Mark sips his coffee, then checks the time. "They're still sleeping. They're still sleeping?"

"Well, Annabel's sleeping because she was up at three-thirty for a pajama party," Addison says ruefully. "And Max is sleeping because…" She picks up the monitor to check it again. "Oh, Mark, look."

Max is curled up in Annabel's bed now, one arm around his blue stuffed dinosaur and the other flung over his sister's midsection.

Mark wraps an arm over her shoulder. "They're pretty cute."

"They take after you." She leans up to kiss his jaw.

"Only when they're acting up," he corrects her. "Hey … how long do you think they'll sleep?" He waggles his eyebrows.

Addison laughs. "Not long enough."

Sure enough, Max pads out of the bedroom moments later. "Mommy, you forgot to wake me up," he accuses, sleepily wrapping his arms around her legs and hiding his face.

Addison decides it's not the time to point out that he's usually the one who wakes them up, just stroking his rumpled sandy hair instead.

Annabel trails out of the bedroom next. "Mom," she says urgently without any preamble. "Did you decide? Can I go?"

"Good morning to you too, Bel," Mark intercedes before Addison needs to respond, lifting Annabel into his arms. "How did you sleep, not counting the middle of the night party I wasn't invited to?"

Annabel giggles. "Our party was girls only … sorry."

"I'll forgive you this time." Mark kisses her forehead and sets her down on the kitchen counter. Supporting her with an arm on either side of her, he turns to Addison and Max.

"Hey Max … can you run and get me a pterodactyl, buddy?"

Max brightens immediately, suddenly wide awake. "Which one? I have four."

"All of them, then."

He darts into the bedroom.

Mark turns back to Annabel, moving one of his arms so Addison can come stand with him in front of Annabel. She doesn't miss the import.

"Can I?" Annabel looks from one parent to the other. "Can I go to the meeting?"

Addison takes both her hands. "If you do this, Bel, we need to know you understand that this is the board's decision. It's not yours. It's not ours. So if you go talk to them, and they still say no to Dr. Shepherd, that's not going to be on you."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause … I'm only in charge of me. And grownups make their own decisions, I know that. But Mom … it still might help, right?"

"It might," Addison admits. "But it might not. We just don't know."

"Okay," Annabel says slowly. She seems to still be sizing them up, not sure yet whether she's won.

Mark and Addison exchange a glance, then turn back to Annabel, who reads it on their faces and squeals with joy, flinging herself off the counter to hug them both. Mark catches her in his arms, then smiles at Addison. "I think this is the most excited anyone has ever been to go to a hospital board meeting."

..

Amy meets them in the lobby. "You're early for the CT."

"We're making a quick stop first," Addison says, and explains the plan.

Amy's eyes widen. "Good for her," she grins. "And good for the hospital, if they can pull their heads out of their … behind areas," she says quickly, glancing at Annabel, "long enough to realize they need Derek. I mean, this is the hospital where the Grey Sandwich Method was invented."

Addison's brow wrinkles. "The Grey Sandwich Method?"

Amy nods. "Yeah, that's what they're calling it. The procedure. You know, Shepherd, Grey, Shepherd – two Shepherds and a Grey – Grey Sandwich. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

"Who is they, actually?"

Amy shrugs. "Well, I'm the one who submitted the abstract. Come on, the more we publish, the more publicity, the more likely they are to hire him back … right? I mean, all chiefs are the same." She pats her pockets. "They're all about the bottom line."

Addison can't argue with that. She realizes Amy is looking pretty comfortable in her Seattle Grace-embroidered lab coat, chart in hand. "How long are you staying in Seattle, Amelia?"

A smile flirts with the corner of her lips. "That remains to be seen." At Addison's confused look, she explains. "I was thinking I might … stick around for a while. It's not like I have a job to go back to in Boston and apparently my star has risen with the Grey Sandwich Method so … Chief Webber offered me a job."

"But not in – "

"In place of Derek? No way. That big softie is dying to get Derek back. He wants to beef up Neuro. He's expecting some money to come in from … well, all of this."

Addison can't stop a smile. The double-header Shepherds – new version. Derek and Amelia. She likes the sound of that.

"You can't live in the hotel forever, though."

Amy looks slightly embarrassed. "Meredith, uh, kind of invited me to live with them."

Addison's eyes widen. "That's great."

"Yeah, I don't know if Derek's on board – well, he says he is, but he's Derek, and it's just temporary or whatever, but they have so much room and they might need help with … well, you know," and she stops before mentioning Meredith's pregnancy in front of Annabel. "Anyway, Thomas is a pretty cool kid, and I'm not just saying that because he bit Derek the other day."

Addison smiles. "Come with us?"

Amy nods. "Hey, kid." She touches the top of Annabel's head. "If you get worried, just remember – they're only a bunch of dumb old men in dumb suits."

"Thank you, Amelia," Addison sighs. Together, the three of them make their way to the boardroom. Addison checks her email - sure enough, Richard has responded. She swallows a smile and raps gently on the glass window of the door.

"Addison, this is … unorthodox," Richard mutters, closing the door behind him.

"Hi, Dr. Webber," Annabel says, smiling broadly, and he can't seem to help smiling back when he looks down at her.

"You look wonderful, young lady. Much better than the last time I saw you."

"I'm all better 'cause Dr. Shepherd fixed my brain."

Richard leans in closely to Addison so only she can hear him. "This is a bit of a cheap trick, don't you think?"

"Not if it works," Addison says grimly.

Richard nods, then returns to the boardroom.

Addison crouches in front of her daughter, taking both her arms. "Bel … listen, you know you don't have to do this, if you're scared, or just if you don't feel like it…."

"I'm not scared," Annabel scoffs. "It's not scary in there, Dr. Girl-Shepherd said, it's just a bunch of dumb old-"

"Great," Addison says hastily, cutting her off as she sees a man in a suit open the door. "Then I think we're up, sweetheart."

They walk in together to face the assembled board. Annabel looks tiny facing the large table encircled by … well, men in suits ... and Addison's not certain they can see her.

Quickly, she pulls over a spare chair – not on wheels – and Annabel, with her mother's help, climbs up onto it so she can be seen. Addison stands with her, holding her to make sure she doesn't slip. Annabel glances at her mother for confirmation and Addison nods.

The assembled board members are exchanging glances; they don't seem to know what to make of the little girl standing on the big chair.

Addison has to swallow a lump in her throat when she looks at her daughter: she's so cute in her soft rainbow-checked dress with its smocked front, leggings, and the flat boots Annabel loves because her mother has similar ones. She's so cute but she's also strong: her wavy dark hair is loose on her shoulders, a wide floppy bow hiding the shaved patch of hair where her skull was opened.

"Hi," Annabel starts, a little uncertainly. "I'm Annabel."

She reaches her little arms up and removes the bow on her head with achingly steady fingers, letting the bare patch of her skull show. This must have been Annabel's own idea – it certainly wasn't Addison's – but as a murmur passes through the boardroom, she has to admit it's effective.

"Um…I'm seven, my birthday was on Tuesday and, um, I came here from New York City so Dr. Shepherd could fix my brain. And he did fix my brain, and Dr. Grey and Dr. Girl-Shepherd too. They're like a team. And now I'm all fixed except for I'm still doing PT and I need to wear a helmet sometimes and stuff … but I can go home soon and I can even skate, just not right away. I can roller skate now, though." She beams. "You can do that inside, if you didn't already know that ... so I did it for my birthday."

She pauses and looks at her mother, who strokes her hair. "Did you want to say anything else, Bel?"

Annabel nods. "I wasn't just a little sick, I was a lot sick, before, and Dr. Shepherd was the only one who wanted to help me. And I don't think I'm supposed to know that but when you're in the hospital everyone kind of acts like you're always asleep and they say stuff when you're there. So I know Dr. Shepherd doesn't have his job right now and that's bad because there might be other kids who need him like I did and he can't help them." Annabel takes a deep breath. "And also he's really nice. That's all I wanted to say," and she glances at her mother.

Addison smiles at her, and lifts her down carefully from the chair. She leans over to kiss her, then points to Amy, standing just outside the door. "That was great, Bel. Go with Dr. Girl-Shepherd now, okay, sweetie?"

When Annabel's gone Addison turns to face the board.

"Sorry … you're not done with the Sloans just yet. My daughter, that was the personal side. Now you're going to give me one more minute and I'm going to give you the medical side. I'm a surgeon too and I know how this works. What Dr. Shepherd and his team did for Annabel has never been done before. Under his leadership, three neurosurgeons have changed the game. He didn't just save one life, he created a new way to save other lives. Just to be clear: Never. Been done. Before. So, if you let Dr. Shepherd walk out of this hospital, yes, you're letting go of a good man. A good man who put aside a lot of his own issues, a lot of very messy personal history, to save my daughter's life. But, okay, even if that doesn't matter to you, here's some bottom line: you're letting go of a surgeon who has just turned this hospital into the foremost neurological innovation center in the country. Not west of the Mississippi, not north of the Mason-Dixon, anywhere. So vote with your heart, or your wallet, or your feet, but all of them point in the same direction: they point toward yes. They point toward giving Dr. Shepherd back his job." She takes a deep breath. "Thank you for your time," she finishes politely.

As soon as she closes the door, heart pounding, Annabel pulls away from Amy and runs to her. "Mommy … was it okay?"

Addison crouches down to embrace her daughter. "It was more than okay. You were wonderful, Bel. But remember …"

"…it's not up to us. I know." Annabel pulls back. "Are you coming to my scan, Mom?"

"Actually, Daddy's going to take you." Addison exchanges a glance with Mark, who has joined them, hand in hand with Max. "I'm, um, going to go talk to Dr. Shepherd for a bit."

"He's here?" Annabel looks interested. "How come?"

To torment him, Addison could say, but supposedly it's so he can get his files in order before the board's decision. It's pragmatic, if somewhat cruel. "He's doing a little work while the board meets. I'll see you as soon as you're done with your test, okay?"

Mark stops her with a hand on her shoulder before she can leave. He sits Annabel and Max on a bench along the wall for a moment and turns to Addison.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

She leans into him for a moment, letting the strength of his body make her feel secure. "Mark … you're always with me," she says softly, feeling him hold her tighter in response. "But yes, I'm sure I need to do this by myself."

..

Derek doesn't look up from his desk as she stands in his doorway. His incredible focus – which she used to take as a personal affront – no longer seems offensive, just impressive.

"Derek … do you have a minute?"

He looks up. "Sure. I have nothing but minutes." His tone is light, friendly even. He gestures at the files on his desk. "They seem to think I'll do a better job updating my files if I still think I might have a job when I'm finished." He pauses. "It's a little insulting, but I can't deny it's nice to be back in my office … even if it's for the last time."

Then he seems to notice she's still standing in the doorway. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yes. I mean, well … " Addison's voice trails off.

"Is everything all right with Annabel?"

"Yes, she's great, I'm … I'm sorry." Hesitantly, she walks in, and then closes the door. "Um, actually I was hoping I could talk to you about … I wanted to tell you something. Or, talk to you about something, I mean." She takes a deep breath. "And maybe it's selfish of me but I … want to close the chapter, you know, and I just feel like I need to talk to you to do that. And I probably don't need to, but I want to, even if you probably don't need to hear it. And I know it's a stressful day for you, and it's really been only stressful days for you since we got here, and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." She says all this very quickly and then stops.

"Addison." He's looking at her with concern in his eyes, his head slightly cocked – that very familiar posture. "What is it?"

..

It's quiet and still; she can hear both of them breathing. They're sitting on opposite sides of the couch on the other side of his office now. It feels like a lifetime since she stood in the same office doorway shortly after their arrival in Seattle, looking at the same couch and realizing he slept there. Realizing Meredith was angry with Derek for pursuing the issue of Annabel's paternity. She remembers when he turned on her, cutting with the perfect precision she remembered from their marriage, the air prickling with tension and fury.

It's different now. Very different.

The air is silent, but it's not tense. t's something else – gentle. Comfortable, even.

Addison takes a sip from the water bottle Derek dug out of his office refrigerator for them, and leans back slightly against the cushions. After all these years, forming the words was easier than she thought it would be. She feels lighter in response – tired, but lighter. Derek's posture looks tired too, and a little sad. Briefly she wonders if it was selfish to share this with him at this stage in time.

"Derek?"

His eyes are soft when he looks at her. "Yeah."

"Are you … should I not have told you?" She hates how uncertain she sounds.

"No," he says immediately. "I mean, I'm … glad you told me. I'm sorry I didn't know before, when we were married, I just…" he's studying the water bottle in his hands, not looking at her. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, Addie. If I had known, if I …." His voice trails off and he shakes his head.

"I know." She takes another sip of water.

"But you're all right?" He seems to think better of the question. "Mark is …?" he stops before he can finish the sentence.

"Mark is good," Addison says softly; it's an overly simplified understatement, to say the least, but she feels the potency of the last eight years in the abbreviated syllables.

Derek nods. "Good," he says. "That's good." And she can tell that he understands.

He glances up. "Addison … it's not that you … felt you couldn't tell me, or is it? I just mean …" he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to dredge up the past. Just, if I made you feel you couldn't tell me, I'd like to know, I want to do better, this time…"

"No," she says firmly, shaking her head. "It wasn't you, really. I didn't even tell my brother."

Derek is watching her. For a moment, they're both silent again, sipping water. Then Derek speaks, his voice a bit far away. "You know … I saw Archer once – after the divorce, I mean."

"You did?" Addison stares. Archer never mentioned it. "I didn't know that. Really?"

He nods. "At the ANA conference in Vancouver about … it must have been five years ago."

Five years ago – that would have been the last year of her brother's life.

She feels the thickness in her throat she always does when she thinks of Archer, his life cut short so unfairly. "You, uh, did you talk to him?"

"I did."

With some effort, Addison drags her eyes up to meet his. "What did he…"

"Well, first he called me a few choice names."

Addison's mouth quirks. "Sorry about that."

Derek smiles a little bit too. "Nothing I wasn't expecting. But then he, uh, he took out a picture of Annabel and showed it to me and he said 'just so you know, my sister has never been happier'."

Tears fill her eyes. "Archer had a picture of Annabel?"

Derek nods. "In his wallet."

For a moment she wonders if her ex-husband is just humoring her, trying to make her feel better about Archer's sudden death, distract her from the unfortunate revelation she's just shared with him too. Which would be kind of him, in a way, but she's desperate to think his recollection of Archer could be true.

"Derek…"

"She was wearing one of those little winter hats with animal ears." Derek smiles briefly again. "In the picture, I mean. Thomas has a similar one, actually, but Annabel's was something … unexpected, not a rabbit, or a bear…it was orange, as I recall, and it had a face on here..." he points to his forehead.

"A fox," Addison says softly.

"Right. A fox."

Addison clearly remembers not only the hat, but sending Archer that photograph. It was taken about a month before Annabel's second birthday, in Central Park. Annabel's head was covered with the hat that caught Addison's eye at a boutique when she was pushing the stroller past it, and she couldn't resist. The little fox ears were orange, lined with pink, there was a mischievous fox's face knitted into the hat and Annabel looked so cute in it. It was slightly too big for her, Addison remembers, so they'd tuck all her hair up in it when she wore it, to make it fit.

Addison draws a deep breath and lets a tear fall. It's true, then.

Archer carried Annabel's picture with him. Archer knew Addison had never been happier than she was as a mother, with her own family. She lets the memory comfort her as if Archer himself is coming back to remind her. What would he say, if he could?

You doubted me, sis?

Maybe. Then he'd probably laugh, and pour her a drink.

Addison glances at Derek. "Is that it? Your conversation with Archer, I mean."

"Almost." Derek grimaces slightly. "Then he said, no hard feelings? and held out his hand to shake, and…"

Addison smiles through her tears, realizing what's coming. "Oh, no. You didn't."

Derek laughs. "I did! I fell for it, and then he took his hand away and –" Derek mimics adjusting his hair.

Addison can't help laughing, too. "You brought out the teenager in him, I guess."

"I'm sorry. I … considered sending a note, when he … " he stops. "It's not about that. But I know how much he meant to you."

For a moment she just looks at him, this man she spent a third of her life with before their paths diverged, the man who brought her current husband into her life, who saved her daughter. And she says it.

It doesn't seem like enough – for this newest gift of her brother's love, for the gift of her daughter's life, for the gift of healing the broken trust that has haunted the back of her otherwise loving and fulfilling life for the last eight years. But she says it anyway.

"Derek … thank you."

He nods, then smiles softly. "I'm glad you're happy, Addison."

"I'm glad you're happy, too."

..

"Did Dr. Shepherd call yet?"

"Not yet, babe, we'll tell you when he calls," Mark says patiently, for at least the fifth time. They're home – in the hotel suite that has become a second home, at any rate. Annabel, basking in her perfect CT scan, has done her PT exercises, played a round of Animal Friends with Max, worked her way through several chapters of a book, and is now lying on her stomach on her parents' bed, face propped in her hands, swinging her feet – the picture of frustrated impatience.

Max is lining up some of his small rubber dinosaurs on Addison's pillow, using an ordering technique only he knows. That leaves one set of pillows and approximately a quarter of the king-sized bed for Mark and Addison to share, which doesn't seem particularly fair based on relatives sizing in their family – but neither of them is in a protesting mood. Addison is leaning back against her husband, enjoying the familiar feeling of his body supporting her, loving the way it feels – the way it always feels – when their family of four is all together.

Right. It feels right.

Max looks over at his parents. "When Dr. Shepherd calls," he starts eagerly, "can we go to his house again? Can we go see Thomas and Pete and have a fire again?"

Addison smiles. "I don't think tonight is – " and then the buzzing of the phone interrupts her.

"It's Derek," she murmurs to Mark, reaching for the phone. His arm around her waist steadies her as she takes the call.

After the briefest of exchanges, she hangs up with shaking fingers. "He says to come down there," she says quietly, almost wondrously.

"But what –"

She shakes her head. "That's all I know."

"All of us?"

They're not going to separate now. The four of them pile into the car, so similar and yet so different compared to the way they arrived in Seattle almost three weeks ago: in the boxy medical transport vehicle, a half-sedated Annabel dozing on her father's lap, fear-stricken Addison trying to distract Max.

Now Mark is driving, Addison resting her hand reassuringly on his thigh – because whatever happens, they have each other, and she knows this – and in the backseat a healthy Annabel is in high spirits, energized, chatting with her little brother.

"Is that Derek?" Addison leans forward in her seat, trying to see through the persistent Seattle mist as they drive into the parking lot. "Mark, I think that's him!"

Derek is standing there outside the doors as they pull in, wearing a navy hospital-issue windbreaker; Meredith is wearing one too, next to her husband with her arm looped through his.

Addison's heart speeds up. "Mark…"

He squeezes her hand.

Slowly, Mark and Addison emerge from the car, opening the backseat to help the children out, and then all four of them stand together, facing Derek and Meredith.

For a moment, no one speaks.

Then Derek nods.

"Yes!" Mark pumps a fist in the air. And the two families converge on each other, everyone talking at once. Mark lifts Annabel into the air; Derek crouches down so Max can give him multiple enthusiastic high fives. When he stands up, Derek looks straight at Annabel, who is eye to eye with him as Mark holds her. "Thank you, Annabel," Derek says seriously, and Annabel smiles widely, reaching her arms around the neck of the man who helped save her life.

Addison and Meredith exchange a knowing look; it's misty enough that maybe both of them are crying a little or maybe neither of them. It's in this moment that Addison realizes that yes, Annabel is theirs, hers and Mark's, only theirs. But a part of Annabel is Derek's now too, in a way. He didn't give her life – that was Mark and Addison – but he saved her life. He, Meredith, and Amy saved her daughter, and there's no way to form the words to appreciate that or even to acknowledge it, not really. It's enough, in that moment, just to be.

As they stand in the parking lot in a tight huddle, Addison recognizes the two major differences between their meeting now, and the one three weeks ago, the first time they saw each other in nearly eight years.

This time, no one hesitated to walk toward each other.

And this time … everyone is smiling.

Reviews make me less sad about saying goodbye to this story! Please let me know what you think!

This is the last full chapter, but there will be an epilogue I'll post tomorrow. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. A few quick thoughts - it felt right to me to leave Addison and Derek's conversation private. And I love Archer, and was sorry I killed him off so quickly - so I loved the idea of (1) Derek giving Addison back a little Archer-love and (2) Archer as an eighties movie villain. You know he totally used that move.

Title lyric from Wilson Phillips's Hold On