A/N: Oh man... thanks everyone for your support! Thanks Patsy, for your prayers, you will be in mine as well, and thanks to those who wished me well. My family is doing well, thank you. We are just realizing now how much work it is to take care of someone who is slowly deteriorating mentally and physically, and the biggest difference is the speed in which we can get things done. What used to take us ten to fifteen minutes to do with dad, now takes an hour, and the emotional and mental energy drain is always a constant. So just bear with me as I work on this within my busy schedule.

I really am amazed at how well Zola, Bailey and Ellis have been recieved by this audience. There are parts of me in all of them, Zola the caregiver, Bailey the investigator, Ellis the dreamer. So seeing that you are so invested in them just blows me away!

I spent my entire day off working on this, this is a two parter, the second half will be up in a couple days as I am almost finished, but just don't have time tomorrow as I work a double.

Tying up a lot of loose ends, connecting a lot of dots. You'll see.

Enjoy!

Less than 24 hours ago: Ellis

"I gotta get to work," Zola said, shrugging her coat on. "I've been trying to get mom to take a bath... but," she shook her head. "Maybe she'll listen to you..."

I nodded, "I'll try," I said.

Zola picked up her bag, and I realized how tired she looked. She'd been taking the brunt of the work caring for mom, all the while doing her own incredibly impossible job. I felt bad because while I had been working too, I wasn't as absorbed in mom's care as she was.

I would be so relieved when Bailey was finally here. We'd been talking a little bit about what to do next, our next steps, as mom had been going downhill for a while now, and the medication she was on didn't appear to be working.

Were we going to put her in a home?

I didn't know.

All I knew was that we needed help.

There was crash and a startled yelp from upstairs. Zola stopped at the door, alarmed.

"It's fine," I said, "Go, or you'll be late."

My stubborn sister hesitated.

"Go," I insisted. I waved her away while I marched up the stairs, two at a time. "Mom?" I called, peering into the rooms down the hall.

"Who's stuff is this?" she growled from Bailey's room. I quickly stepped inside to see what was going on. The movers had just come with Bailey's stuff, and Zola and I had spent an hour or so stacking boxes, setting up the bed, and unpacking some of it for him, as he had a huge thirty-six hour shift at the hospital and would be beat by the time he got home.

"It's Bailey's," I said, noticing a broken alarm clock on the floor.

Mom pulled out some of his clothes and held them up. "Bailey's? Bailey doesn't live here... what are you talking about?"

"Your son, Bailey?" I asked.

"What?" she wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I don't have a kid," and then she paused and looked down at herself, "Do I?"

"It's okay," I soothed. I learned a long time ago not to argue or try to tell her what the reality really was. Distraction seemed to work best, "don't worry about it. Do you want to help me downstairs?"

"But I- Who's stuff is this?"

"C'mon, I'll tell you when we get downstairs." I offered my hand.

"Okay. Someone should fix those things, they're crooked or something."

xxx

I gave mom the vacuum and let her do the floors while I dusted and organized.

"So who's stuff was that upstairs?" Mom asked again. "Who's moving in now? Alex? I thought Izzie didn't want him here."

"Oh," I shrugged, "I guess she changed her mind?"

"She should just fuck him and get it over with," mom muttered as she pushed the vaccuum over the rug.

"Mom!" I exclaimed. Mom had no filter anymore so stuff just came out.

"What?! It's obvious she has feelings for him... I mean she sees stuff in him that's good that I didn't even realize until I told him I wished my mother had cancer. He can be a good guy, if he'd just get over the stupid asshole part of himself, God."

I stopped my dusting and stared. Mom continued vaccuuming, oblivious. Judging from her mentions of Izzie and Alex and her mother, I supposed she was reliving her residency. Part of me wanted to just agree with her, and move the conversation along, but...

She wished her mom had cancer? "You wanted your mom to have cancer?" I asked. Mom pulled the vaccuum up and blinked at me.

"I- I don't... I... It's just so hard, you don't get it. I don't have anybody. I thought maybe I had Derek, but... turns out he has a wife. My mother is all I have, and she doesn't even remember me most of the time. She remembered Liz though, her scrub nurse. But me? Her daughter? Why would she remember me? I'm just another disappointment to her." And then like nothing happened, like she hadn't said anything significant, she continued vaccuuming the same spot on the rug.

I put my dirty rag down and pushed through the door to the kitchen. I just needed a minute.

xxx

Later, I finally gathered the courage for the battle to come. The bath battle. What was it about dementia and baths? I didn't get it. Whatever. Usually, I could convince her with a few carefully constructed sentences, but it seemed to get harder and harder. If I could just get her under the water, that was all we needed.

"Mom?" I called out, padding to her room.

She lay on her stomach on top of the covers, her head resting on her folded arms. Had she been crying? Her eyes were glistening.

"Hey," I said softly, sitting on the corner of the bed. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged. "I don't know... I feel..." she struggled to speak, lost in her own world. "I have this feeling... I feel like... I-I," she shook her head, sniffed. "I'm so tired."

"You know what helps me when I'm tired?" I said, "A nice bath."

Mom raised an eyebrow, "A bath? A bath sounds good."

That was spectactularly easy."Okay, I'll go get your towel."

xxx

I waited in Mom's room with a book while she took her bath. The bathroom door was half open, so I could hear if she needed help.

I checked my watch. A couple more minutes, I thought. But then I realized it'd been quiet for a little too long.

"Mom?" I called at the threshold of the door. "Mom?" I stepped inside, not sure what to expect. Wait, where was she? I panicked and dashed closer to the tub. There she was, completely submerged underwater, eyes closed, throat bulging as she seemed to resist breathing.

My body acted before my mind could process what I was seeing. I reached in and pulled her up. Coughing and sputtering, she struggled against me, twisting her body, leaning her weight against me, I struggled to hold her up, she was so slippery.

"Let me go! Don't touch me!"

"Mom, what are you doing?" I asked, finally pulling her completely out of the tub.

"I was taking a bath!"

"That didn't look like a bath to me!" I said, panicking.

"So what? What does it matter to you?" she yelled.

"It matters a lot, you're my mother!"

"You want me to live?"

"Yes."

"Yeah? You want this? A mother who doesn't remember you? A father who's never around? I don't know what- I-"

"Mom-"

"No! Everybody does everything for me... all the time. I-I don't remember, but I feel it. I feel it, I can't remember what a – a fork does, or how to do my hair... or how to to- to put my shoes in my feet. I used to... I was great, you know... I was a surgeon, a doctor. My whole life was about -about- about-" she stuttered for the word "-zipping people together. Fixing sickness- and now- I can't-"

"Mom," I had to get her off this track. I grabbed her robe and tried to wrap it around her but she pushed me away.

"No!" she screamed.

"Mom!"

"I don't want your help! What are you doing here? You should be in college, you should be getting engaged, or meeting guys in bars who turn out to be your boss and you marry them on post-it's. You should be extraordinary. I don't want you-" she sputtered, and snatched the robe from my hands. "Bathing me-"

"So, what mom, you wanna die?"

"I don't know! I don't fucking know!" She wrapped the robe around herself, pulling tightly on the belt.

"Well, I don't want you to die, okay? Not yet. We're not finished."

"We should be. You should let me go... just let me go... I'm losing- I can't- Derek's gone- and I can't put all my brain back together. I try to put it back together every time I wake up, but it's so hard."

"Mom, we're family, and we do this because we love each other. I take care of you because I love you, okay? And everything else?" I shrugged. "It doesn't really matter right now."

"No! No! If you loved me you'd let me go... let me go! I can't do this anymore! I can't hold on for you... Pieces. I'm breaking and I can't- I'm so tired I just want to-"

"What mom? Die?"

"Disappear."

"No, you don't get to. Dad already got to do that trick, so I'm not letting you."

"You think I like being reminded to bathe? Or to eat? Or not knowing where I am or who you are or what-what-" she gestured uselessly. "I know you're important to me, and I know I love you, but I can't-" an angry sob escaped her lips as she shook her head, "remember your name."

"Ellis," I said softly. "My name is Ellis."

"Ellis," mom whispered. "I can't do this anymore. I tried."

"No." I shook my head. "No, there's still hope, mom. We are so close to a cure... A year, or two or five..."

"Please!"

"No!" I jabbed a finger at her. "You are so fricken selfish! This isn't just about you, you don't get to decide right now that you just wanna give up and die. You don't, because you have three children, who, everyday get to spend time with their mother. And yeah, it's a little messed up because of stupid Alzheimers, but you are needed here. You remind us, everyday, just by being you how precious life is, how important every minute is, because the next might be gone. So you don't get to die... or disappear, or whatever it is you're planning on doing. I won't let you."

"I can't... I can't..." Mom gasped, and I grabbed her, wanting to pull her close to me, comfort her, but she fought against me, trying to push me.

"Mom," I murmured. She was remarkably strong. I pulled her out of the bathroom, and she fought me the entire way, twisting and writhing, pulling and pushing. What was going on? What was she thinking? I just knew I had to get her to the bed.

Finally, I got her there, and pushed her down. I straddled her as she fought against me and I held her wrists. "I don't want-" she cried.

"I know mom," I replied. "I know... shh," I stilled her arms, and felt her relaxing, tired out from the bath and the fight. "Shh..."

"It's so hard," she whimpered.

"I know..." I soothed. I wasn't really a hugger, like Zola, but I lay down beside her and wrapped my arms around her anyway.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," I replied.

Eventually she fell into a deep slumber, and I knew she'd be out for a couple hours at least. I put out some pajama's for her... and then, I couldn't stand being home anymore. Knowing Zola would be home in an hour or so, I left.

xxx

I arrived at Cory's on my scooter with a bottle of Tequila. I pounded on the door. There was no answer. Stupid boyfriend. But I had a spare, so it didn't matter. I let myself in, "Cory?" I called out, no answer. He was probably still working. He worked part-time as a cook at a restaurant not far from here. I debated going to him, but the bottle of tequila called to me.

I cracked it open and took a swig. On the coffee table there was a new batch of pictures. Figures, he just got back from BC. I was supposed to go with him, but with mom the way she was...

I stared at the pictures on the coffee table. The Tsunami. Or as I called it, the Death Wave. A hundred thousand people died on the West Coast, tens of thousands more missing or injured.

I was one of the lucky ones. I survived. Through some strange fluke, I didn't really remember how exactly I survived, but I did. And so did Bailey and Zola. But my dad...

Ellis!

I shook my head and sipped the vile liquid, I couldn't help myself anymore. My mom was so messed up right now... and it hurt. And I couldn't- I couldn't- How could she want to die? Just give up? What was so horrible about forgetting stuff anyway?

"Bleah," the tequila worked down my throat. Pushing through Cory's batch of pictures absently, one picture caught my attention. Two people standing in front of a sailboat. I picked it up idly, dad had a sailboat scrubcap. Wait... that was mom and Cristina. Wait- the boat... That was my name. My name was on a freaking boat! I flipped the picture over. In childlike writing, the details of the day were written, down to the temperature and windspeed. But what got me was the date. June 16th 2034.

Flashback: June 2034

"Mom!" I snapped, "For five years you've been taking off to God-knows-where doing God-knows-what with God-knows-who on the anniversary of Dad's disappearance. You think that doesn't bother us?" I stared angrily at my mother. She stared coldly back. I knew I hurt her. But she hurt me too. Every year she was gone, she left us alone with Aunt Amy and Owen to grieve Dad at the memorial, and... honestly, I hated her for it. Why couldn't she be there for us that day? She was supposed to be there. She was supposed to be looking for dad...

"I go fishing," Mom said.

"Fishing?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. Is this the Alzheimers thing again? Was she messing up her words? "Cristina is coming from Switzerland to take you fishing?"

Mom looked down at her fingers, "Um..."

"Mom!" I hissed. I wanted an answer. A real answer. Not 'um'.

Mom slid off her stool and walked to the desk, picking up a red folder and pulling out some papers. She sighed and handed them to me. I snatched them out of her fingers and stared at them. Two flights. One from here to Vancouver BC, the other to Naniamo, and then... A hotel booking, in North Cove BC. "Oh," I said. She went there without me? How could she? Why? Why would she go without us?

Probably to get plastered, I thought bitterly, watching her slump on the couch. I wanted to yell at her, scream... but I didn't see the point right now, so I left, slamming the door behind me.

xxx

I put it out of my mind, but after a crazy shift at the cafe, I decided to take a walk down at the docks and watch the ferryboats. It was that time of year again, and it was hard not to think about dad. I thought about him a lot actually, just wondering what happened. Where had he gone?

All I remember was that he was there in one moment, and gone the next. Unconsciously I rubbed the scar between my thumb and forefinger, feeling the faint indent. They hadn't stitched it up, it was too late, and it had healed on it's own. A constant reminder of That Day.

I bought a little bag of breadcrumbs and trasversed the pier, tossing small handfulls onto the water and along the rocky shore for the birds. The salty moist air tingled around me, but the breeze felt so warm.

Although cloudy, not a drop of rain had fallen from the Seattle sky, and I was grateful. Finally, I sat down on bench, not really wanting to go anywhere just yet.

"Fancy seeing you here," a deep familiar voice boomed.

I looked up to see Richard Webber, my kind-of-Grandpa. "What are you doing here?" I blurted, without so much as a hello or anything.

Richard raised an eyebrow and gazed out at the ocean spread before us. "Oh, I'm here almost everyday," he said mildly, shuffling to sit beside me. I nodded, of course he was. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked.

I shrugged. I wasn't really in the mood for small talk.

"This must be hard for you. Five years ago this time, you lost your father."

I inhaled sharply and threw some more crumbs in front me. I didn't want sympathy, but strangely I didn't want to be alone. "I miss him."

"Hm." It came out a soft low rumble. "It's hard growing up without a father."

I hated the sound of sympathy, so I didn't bother with a filter. Not today. Not now. "You know what's hard?" I asked Richard bluntly, "Finding out your mother doesn't want to be there for you on the one day you need her to."

Richard blinked, his dark brown eyes reflecting the clouds in the sky. "What do you mean?"

"She goes away, every year... to freaking North Cove. Where we lost him. And she never thought to invite us? She never thought... maybe we'd wanna come too?"

Richard leaned back on the bench and crossed his arms. "I think... I think she thought about that all the time."

"But she never invited us," I choked. "So she didn't want us there. Why?" I would have loved to go there, to North Cove... maybe someone knew something, maybe we'd find a clue, maybe...

I shoved a hand into the bag to withdraw another handful of crumbs which I threw angrily onto the rocks.

The waves crashed. Gulls chirped. I missed him. And mom... she was supposed to be there... that day, she was supposed to be there, but she had this stupid book thing for her Alzheimers treatment, and... If she had just been there, none of this would've happened. It was all her fault. "But why does she have to go away every year? What does she do? Fishing? I... don't understand."

"Ellis, have you ever seen your mother upset?"

"Of course," I muttered.

"No... I-I mean, have you ever seen her just... break down? In front of everybody? In front of you?"

"I..." I thought about it, she snapped at me sometimes. We yelled and fought quite a bit, but that wasn't breaking down... Mom cried sometimes at night, when she thought we were all asleep. And for more than a year, she slept on the couch. But break down? Like fall apart? "I don't know..." I said. She was always so stoic... always kept everything inside.

"I know you blame her... I know that you hate her for not being there that day. But you're not the only one. She feels the same way. She blames herself. She hates herself."

I shook my head, not believing his words. "But she gave up..." I said, "She gave up looking for him. I begged her-"

"She prioritized!" Richard interrupted, his tone harsh enough to cause me to flinch. "She had to raise three kids, she had to put food on the table. She had to comfort you."

"I don't recall a lot of comforting," I said. I remembered a lot of therapy, and snapping biting, angry words.

"She tried..."

I remembered her knocking on my door when I didn't feel like eating, or trying to compliment my schoolwork, or that weird night when she was drunk... "Maybe," I said.

"You know the story about your grandmother?" Richard asked.

"Huh?" Mom didn't really talk about her mother to me. But then, I never showed much of an interest. I knew Richard and Ellis were in love because hello- Maggie!

"I left your Grandmother, the love of my life, I left her. And she nearly died because of it. I broke her. Practically broke myself too. I turned to alcohol, and your grandmother flew across the country and raised Meredith alone. Everyone said later, how strong Ellis Grey was... that she was a talented, gifted, extraordinary surgeon, and she was..."

"But?"

"She buried herself in her work, she neglected Meredith while holding her to higher standards. Meredith was always a disappointment to her mother. Ellis may have been a great surgeon, but she missed the mark when it came to raising a daughter." He sighed, and placed a hand on my knee. "But your mother didn't. She tried. There were many sleepless nights while she tried to find Derek, there was a lot of drama those first few months, but she tried. And when she realized that things were falling apart, she had to make an awful choice. Search for the love of her life, or mend her broken family."

Put like that-

I could feel my throat constrict. I huffed. Why couldn't I just let this go?

"You love your dad so much," Richard said, like he was reading my mind. "You feel like he would want you to find him, to search him out. You feel like you're betraying him... but it was a Tsunami, Ellis. A devastating natural disaster that no one could've ever expected. Any number of impossible things could've happened."

"I just... she should've been there! She should be here now, at the memorial and not in freaking Canada going fishing and probably getting drunk out of her mind."

"But don't you see-" Richard started

"Argh! Why is this so hard!" I exclaimed.

"It's not hard. You just need a little perspective. See the bigger picture. Wanna know what that is?"

"What?"

"She's been here, this whole time, these last five years. Every year, she has to hold in her own pain and grief so she can raise you, pay for your school, put food on the table. Everyday. Even when her own heart is breaking, she doesn't show it. Maybe she should, but she doesn't know any better. All she knows is that she can't fall apart, because if she does she might not make it, and there's no McDreamy to glue her shattered heart back together. So she buries it. Swallows it down, holds it in. And once a year, when she feels safe enough, she can grieve... just let it all out, release it all. Talk to her husband. But for every other day of the year, she's been here for you this whole time. Maybe she hasn't been the easiest to get along with, but frankly, you don't make it easy."

"No..." I sighed. "I don't."

"Forgive her. Forgive her for making the wrong choice. Forgive her for not knowing how to deal with you... for not knowing what to do to make it better."

Out on the water, the ferryboat drifted by. A loud horn blared, announcing its intent to dock. "Richard, that day... something happened, and I don't remember what but- I... don't know if I'm ready."

"You will be, someday. But she's going to need you now more than ever, so you have to figure something out."

"She made me grilled cheese," I said.

Richard's brow creased.

I shrugged. "I don't know, just... she made me grilled cheese and I poured her coffee and we were almost normal and happy until I opened my fat mouth and broke her." She has freaking Alzheimers for god's sake, and I can't be even the slightest bit nice to my mother.

"Well, then it's time you went about fixing it."

Now:

"Ellis?" Cory called. He waved his hand in front of me. I looked up at him, took a huge gulp of the tequila. I hadn't even noticed him coming in.

I coughed, and hacked, after all these years I still wasn't used to the strong taste of Jose Cuevero. "My mom's falling apart and I can't put her back together," I said, sipping the liquor. "And what the hell is this?" I flapped the picture in front of him.

He picked it up and stared at it. "Oh yeah, I picked these up at North Cove. Haven't had a chance to go through them all yet." Then he frowned as he looked closer. "Whoa, that's weird, the boat has your name on it."

"Yeah, and that's my freaking mother!"

"What?" He squinted, "Yeah, I guess it is... holy crap. How come she didn't say anything?"

"She has Alzheimers, she probably thought she was seeing things." And then she probably forgot. "So... you think it means something?"

Cory just stared at the picture thoughtfully. "I need some coffee," he said, getting up.

"Sometimes," I rambled, taking another swig of the tequila, "I think he's still out there. It's stupid, cause if he was alive he'd have found us by now, right?"

"So what? He's laying in a coma in a hospital somewhere?"

I shrugged, sighed. "I don't know."

"Hmm," Cory sat down beside me. "I have an idea," he pulled out his tablet and clicked on the internet browser.

"Wait, you're going to google the picture?"

"Not google, that's too broad. I'll use Journalscape."

"Journalscape?"

"It's a journalism tool. It searches articles, blogs... stuff like that."

"You're so smart, I have sucha smart boyfriend," I leaned on his chest to watch him type in the words sailboat, Ellis, North Cove, Tsunami.

"And you're drunk," he rumbled, kissing the top of my head.

"Not that drunk," I murmured. But I put the bottle down.

It took a couple seconds to load, but suddenly a result appeared.

Two results.

An archived blog, and a local newspaper article. "Holy Crap!" I shoved a finger at the uploaded image. "Holy- Cory- that's- It can't be-"

Looking back at me in classic black and white, was my father.

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: Thanks everyone, more on how Derek and Ellis find each other next chapter. Good luck on your exams J8doll!

Please review! If you want something to tide you over, you can read my New Story, Gone Baby Gone.