Atlas

by darlingwrecks

What if you can build something out of the wreckage that you caused? Mark/Addison (and Derek), pre-Grey's. Includes flashbacks to Addison's childhood, Mark's childhood, and works off the fact that the "he was just here" comment was not accurate. Long-term affair. Mark/Addison and Derek/Meredith endgame.

53. Rivers and Roads

Chapter title is a song from The Head and the Heart. There are a few references to things that happened/were discussed in chapters 3, 7, 16, 28, 34, 36, 40, and 41, but I promise that skimming these chapters is not even slightly necessary.

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Chapter 53. Rivers and Roads

"Are we being mean parents if we keep these to ourselves?" Addison is displaying a hint of a smile when Mark places a gift box containing a few leftover chocolate chip cookies on top of the refrigerator. The cookies are from Savvy, who left for St. Croix with Weiss and Phoebe today, but has been sufficiently updated on what has been going on, and sent Addison a text shortly before boarding: one of my summer interns is bringing over cookies from Levain since I can't give you in-person support. I didn't know what else to do so maybe just put some food on top of it? The arrival of an eager-to-please intern with cookies occurred while the girls were playing in Clara's room, which potentially makes these secret cookies, if Mark and Addison do not feel inclined to share. And, given that they waited to break into the box until after the girls were asleep, things are potentially headed that way.

"Absolutely not. We deserve these cookies, Addison. The girls don't need to know about them." Mark's conspiratorial look matches hers. "They rarely get deprived of treats anyway. We get the overpriced cookie assortment, and they can make do with pauper Oreos."

"You know, speaking of dessert…and dinner…I keep forgetting Bizzy is on her date tonight. It was only three days ago she told me she was going out to dinner with a woman named Gwen, but it feels like so much longer."

"Do you think she'll tell you how it went?"

"I'm going to text her tomorrow and ask, but I'm sure she'll just say 'fine' or 'good,' which…is probably all I can expect." Addison drums her fingers against the island countertop. "So, Zoe's mom…well, I already told you, she called earlier to see if Clara wants to go with them to Brighton Beach tomorrow, and I told her that works for us. They're going to try to leave early though to beat the crowds, so -"

"I can bring her to their place." This planning, this I'll-do-this-you-do-that which is sprinkled over so many of their parenting conversations at the end of the day is just so ordinary, except for the fact that Mark has volunteered to handle getting Clara to her friend's house because the work commitment Addison has centers around the wife of her ex-husband.

"If you can, that would be great. I'm going to head to the hospital around nine. I shouldn't be too long. Realistically, any other specialist could examine Meredith and just give me a call – Dr. Evans did a second ultrasound for me this evening, and everything looks good – but it's probably right for me to at least check in with her in person." Addison tilts her head towards the edge of the kitchen, and they carry on to the next part of their ordinary: tucking away a few loose toys that never made it back to their designated places in the playroom, setting the alarm to night mode, and flipping off all the lights on the lower level. "Since it won't be that long," she adds as they make their way upstairs, "I think I'll just bring Ruby with me."

"You sure?"

"Well, unless you want to be on the receiving end of her outrage when you drop Clara off at the Ackermans and Ruby discovers this fun little outing to the beach doesn't involve her. Some one-on-one mommy-daughter time might be the perfect antidote." The girls are usually delighted to go to Addison and Mark's practices, or the hospital, because it means lots of attention from the staff – as though they aren't shrouded in attention at home – and the chance to get sugar-free lollipops at the nurses' station. "I'll send Derek and Meredith – I have her number now, too, which is sort of crazy – a text ahead of time to let them know I'll be bringing an unqualified but really cute assistant with me, but I don't think they'll mind. What?" Addison pauses when they reach the landing, attempting to read Mark's face. "Do you think it's not a good idea?"

"It's a good idea," he assures. "I was just trying to imagine how exactly Ruby is going to butcher Meredith's name, because there's no way in hellshe gets it right." It is enough to make Addison smirk as they resume walking. Next is another moment of ordinary: one more check on each of the girls, who are sleeping as their projector nightlights create lazy patterns on their respective ceilings, and then they retreat to their own bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind them.

"I've been waiting all day for this." Addison laughs when Mark raises an intrigued eyebrow. "Not that," she says. "Well, maybe that, too, but you know what I mean." She sees her husband become more serious. He does know, of course, regardless of how Addison's sentence could be interpreted. They have been able to share bits and pieces in between moments with the kids. How separating the blood vessels went. How Meredith and the twins are doing so far. How hilariously awful Ruby is with names. How kind Clara was, to want to give Theo her giraffe. How sweet and inclusive both the girls were with Theo. And Addison and Mark have also been able to reveal some of the words they exchanged today, too: things she said to Meredith before she began the procedure, and things he said to Derek both the first and second time they were in the family room together.

They have not really had time yet to discuss how any of those things made them feel though.

"I didn't think when I suggested meeting up for a play date…" Mark begins, trying to work through his thoughts as they both crawl under the comforter. It feels like a thought inside of a thought when he considers that he used to believe play date was the most ridiculous word he had ever heard, but now it is a regular part of his vocabulary. "Things were going well, it felt like, but I still didn't really think Derek would be willing to hear me out. I'm not…I'm not really sure what to say, if he actually does still want to meet up. Other than, 'I'm sorry,' I mean. Which just…doesn't feel all that sufficient."

"Can I rub your back?" Addison asks it quietly, and Mark shows her a curved, shy sort of grin as he rolls onto his stomach. "I know all things considered…" she touches her lips to his shoulder, happy that he readily accepted her offer. Usually, it takes a little more convincing than this. "I know it went well with Derek, but I know it was still intense to see him after all this time." She thinks back to yesterday, when their roles were reversed, and Mark was sharing something similar with her: it was a lot for you.

"Yeah. It, um…it was."

Addison is overcome with a surge of love for Mark as she maneuvers her palm along his upper back. He feels so much, and cares so much, no matter how relaxed he usually is on the surface; feeling and caring are two of the things that Addison has always felt drew them to each other. This is the same man who plays Pretty Pretty Princess with his daughters and does not think twice about donning the clip-on earrings while they take turns spinning the wheel. Who makes sure the hallway light is always on at night. Who takes a long, slow breath before he gathers the ingredients needed to follow a pancake recipe that once belonged to his mother. Who is gentle as he combs tangles out of the girls' hair. Who once did elaborate closet and under-the-bed searches, and then stayed with Ruby until she fell asleep when for a period of time she was scared of "the monsters" in her bedroom. Who checks in with Addison frequently when they are at her parents' house, to make sure she is doing okay. Who told her that he would love her forever before they went down to city hall. Who blinked back tears when both his daughters were born.

"I think maybe…" Addison continues, trying to offer support, but also not put pressure on him to keep the conversation going. Mark needs more time, she is certain. "I think the rest of the words will come to you, if there's more that you want to say to Derek. I'm here though, if you want to talk about it, or if you want to practice on me. I think you'll just know what to say though, when the time comes."

Mark nods. Everything feels…fuzzy, and he is certain his wife agrees with him on this. Was it really only just yesterday, that he was the one doing the comforting, when Addison shared how her conversation with Derek had gone?

"Thank you," he finally answers when her hand has started to soothe away some of the tension in his muscles. Realistically, it is not that Mark does not know the words. He does. It is just saying them that is going to be the scary part.

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. .

Four Years Earlier

"Paulina just texted. She was able to get Clara into that drop-in class at the place near Pulitzer Fountain. Booker and his nanny are there, too," Addison calls out from inside the walk-in closet. Mark notes that her words contain a quick, frenetic energy that is often present when she is relaying plans to him, but the exchange of information feels extra sped-up today, which he understands is symptomatic of the fact that they will be spending this evening with her parents. "That goes until eleven. And then afterwards they're going to -"

"Walk over to the pond to see the ducks before they come home," Mark finishes. He cannot see his wife's face from where he is standing, but in the pause that follows, he is certain she is beaming with amusement that he completed the report-out for her. "I know my daughter, Red."

"As of this morning…you know one of your daughters, you mean."

The way Mark found out Clara was a girl – when Addison told him, because he got held up in the OR – was meaningful, and intimate, but an hour ago, when they discovered that their next one was going to be a girl, too, in a much more traditional way, it felt equally poignant. Maybe even a little more so. Mark thinks it has to do with Clara; she is too little at fifteen months of age to get much of it, but there is still something stirring about the opportunity to share with her that she is going to have a baby sister. And perhaps the reveal wasn't entirely traditional, because although Dr. O'Leary was the one to perform the ultrasound, it was Addison, who after exchanging a quick look with her OB, turned to Mark with a wide smile and told him in a happy, laugh-cry sort of voice, "It's a girl. We're going to have another little girl."

"I know one of my daughters," he repeats.

"Which one do you like better?" Addison pokes her head out of the closet. "I still can't decide." She steps the rest of the way into their bedroom, holding in one hanger-wrapped hand a sheath, floral-patterned dress with flowers so pale they remind Mark of a watercolor painting, and then in the other hand a blue sleeveless dress.

"I'm actually a huge fan of what you're currently wearing." It is a very appealing visual, with Addison stripped down to a seashell pink, plunge-cut bra and matching panties. "Both dresses are beautiful," he continues, which triggers a predictable pout from her. "I'm not picking unless you really, really need me to. It feels like a setup and I'm too afraid to pick wrong. Which did Sav say she liked more?"

"The floral. I guess I'll go with that one." Addison retreats into the closet to hang up both dresses, and Mark is thrilled that when she comes back out, she has not bothered to put on the clothes she was wearing earlier. "It's better to wear something with sleeves, anyway. It's always cold in my parents' house."

"You feeling okay about going?"

"As okay as I can be." She gives him a thin smile. "Bizzy will be ecstatic though, because she'll be able to introduce you to my dad's colleagues as my husband, instead of -"

"The idiot who keeps knocking you up?"

"I love that you're the idiot who keeps knocking me up. And I love that as of two months ago, you're my husband. But…" Addison tugs at the bottom of Mark's shirt, and he raises his arms, allowing her to tug it over his head. "I might love you a little bit more if you'd get out of all this."

"I told you how much I'm enjoying the second trimester, right?" He slides his hands along her body, trailing over an intoxicating combination of lace and soft, rounded flesh. Addison started showing earlier with her second pregnancy, but she has also seemed more confident with her changing figure this time around, and Mark is glad about that. "Wow," he murmurs when he cups her between her legs. Addison blushes in response. "You're ready to go, aren't you?"

"I've been thinking about you since we got home." She is a little embarrassed that Mark can feel how aroused she is, but she is not too embarrassed to stop herself from sinking down in an attempt to increase the pressure his hand is providing. "And this."

"Yeah, I'm picking up on that." Mark sits down on the bed, and then eases back. He gently pulls at Addison's waist until she is on top of him and the warmth of her inner thighs surrounds him. "I didn't tire you out last night?" He thinks that maybe she should be the one to ask that question though. Not that he didn't want it, or her, but she did wake him up twice.

"Apparently not."

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. .

"I feel like there is room inside me again." Meredith is wearing the biggest smile Addison has seen from her yet as she steps into one of the patient rooms the following morning, with Ruby at her side. Theo is cuddled next to Meredith in the hospital bed, and is busy running a tiny red locomotive over Meredith's stomach. Addison feels a thread of wistfulness unspool in her as she observes what he is doing; it reminds her of when she was in the hospital after Ruby was born, and Clara was beside her, playing with her little ark animals.

"I bet. I'm sure it's been really uncomfortable with all that excess fluid." Addison sets a hand on Ruby's shoulder while speaking to Meredith. "This is Ruby, my younger one. Ruby…this is Meredith." She watches as her daughter says hi, offering Meredith a friendly wave and a smile, but it is purely a formality before the main event: Addison can see how much Ruby wants to play with Theo, and is certain that Meredith can see it, too.

"Theo…do you want to get down and play with your friend Ruby?" Meredith smiles when Theo nods. The look Theo shared with Addison when she and Ruby entered the room was a shyer one, but he seems a bit more sociable where Ruby is concerned, and this does not surprise Addison; her younger daughter always seems to have that effect on people. "Do you mind…?" Meredith makes a vague gesture to Addison with one of her hands, and Addison reacts by stepping forward to pick up Theo and set him on the floor. "Thank you. Hey, Tee-Tee…" Meredith waits until Theo peeks back at her. "Why don't you show Ruby your trains?"

Addison's gaze follows Theo as he walks to the far corner of the room – with incredibly straight posture that seems to indicate a certain amount of proudness about his trains – where a fairly impressive wooden train set is covering a portion of the floor. Ruby, who enjoys anything that can be built, crouches down beside Theo with interest.

"The amount of things we packed for him…" Addison looks at Meredith at the sound of her voice, and notices the slight eye roll that accompanies her words. "You'd think we were going to be out here a month, not a week. Derek should be back soon. He stepped out to send a group text, which will inevitably lead to a few calls. The Shepherd cavalry is being updated on what's been going on." She smiles uncomfortably. "Which…I mean, you know them."

"Yes." Addison nods. "They're…a lot." It is past tense for her though, other than Amelia, who she has remained in touch with. She and Amelia are maybe not close-close, in the way that Addison is close with Savvy and a few of the "mom friends" she has made who no longer need the qualifier of mom, but she still communicates with Amelia regularly, and Amelia has even visited a few times. Addison remembers the rest of Derek's family fondly – all of them fondly, though she can admit she misses his sisters and their husbands and their children more than she does Carolyn – but the miss component became less noticeable over time. "They mean well," she tacks on, her words blanketed with a halting quality, as she does not want to make any assumptions about what Meredith's relationship with the rest of the Shepherds may or may not be like.

"They do. I'm not really…you know, I'm not really a 'bright and shiny' person." Meredith cups her hands around her stomach. "But I just…there's something that's telling me…I just feel like everything is going to be okay." Her voice ticks up at the end like a question.

"I think so, too."

"Medi-dith?" Ah. There it is. Just after Addison has finished examining Meredith's incision, done a quick check for both heartbeats, and asked a few follow-up questions, Ruby has tuned back in, now clutching a piece of double-sided train track in her fist. "Can Free-oh come to our house and play?" She asks.

"Ruby…" Addison replies on Meredith's behalf. "We're going to go to one of the playgrounds at the park, remember?" She hopes this is the case, at least. Like Mark said, Derek told the girls they could play with Theo later in the week, which is distinctly different – and practically an ironclad agreement to a six and four-year-old – than issuing a yeah, maybe to Mark. "But, not right now. Meredith is still resting, so Derek and Theo are going to stay with her and take care of her while she rests. We'll go to the playground in a few more days."

"I want to play with Free-oh at the playground and at our house."

"We'll see." Addison gives Meredith a strained smile, and assumes she understands. Theo is not at Ruby's level yet, but there are plenty of things about parenting that feel universal, regardless of age and developmental stage.

Ruby exhales noisily. "I just really like Free-oh."

"I know." Addison keeps her voice calm when she answers. It is classic Ruby: earnest, honest, determined. "I know you do." She expects Ruby to push back a little more – building her case, Savvy calls it – but then the door to the room slides open again, revealing Derek, which prompts more greetings to be traded.

"What are they more upset with you about…?" Meredith flashes a smirk at Derek. "That you waited until now to tell them what's going on, or that you didn't tell them we were in New York?"

Derek's laugh is nearly inaudible. "Pretty sure it's equal. Everything going okay in here?"

"All good," Addison says. "I was just telling Meredith that the discharge nurse should be here soon so that you guys can get checked out of here. Rubes…" she waits until Ruby glances at her. "We're going to head out. Derek, Meredith, and Theo are leaving soon, too."

The goodbyes that follow are exchanged as quickly as the hellos, and then they are off, but this time, Derek offers to walk them out. Ruby seems elated by the prospect of having someone else to accompany them, but it does not take long for her to spot one of the nurses she knows, and after getting an approving nod from Addison – but ignoring the reminder to walk, do not run – she scampers twenty feet ahead, going directly into a hug from Nurse Josie.

"I let my mom and sisters know you were the one who did the procedure." Derek comes to a stop, and Addison determines that it feels somewhat fitting, to be talking so close to the OR board. A lifetime ago, if she wanted to find her then-husband, to assess the odds of whether they would be able to spend even a fraction of time together that day, or if he would be sleeping at NYP instead, she would find herself scanning the board. "You didn't stay in touch with them, other than Amelia. I'm sorry, if, uh, the divorce meant…" he does not finish the thought, but Addison can hear the rest of it anyway: you lost them, too. No matter how badly things had disintegrated between Addison and Derek, he still knew what her family was like, and what having his family meant to her. "But I guess…they maybe didn't try to stay in touch with you, either?"

Addison shakes her head. "I kept up with the kids' birthdays at first, and I sent a receiving blanket to Nancy ahead of Nora's birth that summer, but I made a hard stop with gifts and cards after the divorce was finalized." She pauses as she considers that Derek's nieces and nephews (she learned to stop saying my after a while) must all be so big now. There might even be new nieces and nephews, too. Amelia never mentioned any additions to the Shepherd family, but Addison had always assumed Liz might try for one more. "I wanted to be respectful of your boundaries, I guess, especially since I was the one who…blew everything up. And then time kept passing, and I think it just got to the point that none of us knew what to say, or where to start, and it was like it wouldn't make sense to reach out after so much time…so not saying anything became the only option."

"I know Mark still sends my mom birthday cards, and that she does the same with him. She mentioned that once."

Addison nods. Mark had also sent Carolyn a tea box (Addison's idea) for Christmas that first year they were a couple, but otherwise, it has just been birthday cards…but then, there was the one card, too, that had more words than the typical "happy birthday." Addison waits to see if Derek will say anything else, but when he doesn't, she contemplates that he might not know about the lengthier card and the picture of the girls. And maybe that makes sense, that Derek's mom had not shared anything about this with him. There were certain things Carolyn had always been guarded about – or worse, withholding about.

"They're grateful, for what you did yesterday," Derek adds. "I'm sure there's a separate group text going on right now where they're trying to decide who should email you to express their gratitude. I'm sure it will be Nancy. The OB in her will probably want to know more about how the procedure went."

"I'd be happy to hear from any of them. I've thought maybe…every December it crosses my mind at least once that, 'this will be the year' I send a generic-looking Christmas card, but I always chicken out." Addison shrugs. "Maybe this year I won't though." She takes a deep breath, and then surprises herself when she persists with, "Your mother never liked me. She thought that I was rich and privileged, and wrong for you." Addison had said this to Derek several times throughout their marriage, in more than one way, but he always insisted it was not true. She doesn't think she's saying it now for an affirmation or a denial from her ex-husband, because she no longer needs a response. Addison knows what the truth is. Maybe it was therapy, or something deeper, but she thinks it was mostly moving on that allowed her to make peace with the fact that Carolyn did not like her long before she actually gave her a valid reason to dislike her. Addison cannot control the fact that she comes from money. And social status notwithstanding, there was never anything wrong with her personality, how she treated Derek's family members, her affection towards her nieces and nephews, or the thoughtful gifts she would give for Christmas and birthdays (she also kept track of Shepherd birthdays in a way Derek didn't, even though she would always sign their cards with him getting first billing: from Uncle Derek and Aunt Addie).

And moving on came with the addition of Everett, which soothed Addison's heart in a way she had not expected. Mark's dad has always been so kind to her.

"Addison -"

"No." She is careful to keep her voice low. "Wait. Just listen…I'm not trying to start an argument, and I'm not even saying it because I expect you to finally agree with me, or continue to disagree. Fair or not, I don't even want you to respond, to be honest. I'm only saying it because I just hope that…that you support Meredith when you're around your family." It is not Addison's business, but she cannot seem to stop herself, and her other interactions with Derek so far have gone well enough that she does not feel uneasy about being this candid. "I loved your mom – regardless of how she felt about me – and I loved your sisters, but when you come from a family that's a bit more…detached, like mine has always been…yours are kind of a lot. It's easy to feel like an outsider. Or like everything about you is inherently wrong. You don't have to say anything." Her tone becomes more reassuring. "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad or make you feel like you need to defend yourself, or your mom. I think I just…needed to tell you this."

"I know. I'm just going to say that there are things…" Derek is speaking slowly, as though measuring the impact of his words. "There are things I work harder at now. And that's one of them. I heard you, Addie, when you told me that you thought my mom didn't like you. I always heard you, and responded, but I wasn't really listening. I get that now. I know I should have defended you more, and told my mom to cut it out, and to not make little comments about our, uh, reproductive plans, among other things. And I know I could have done more to make sure you felt comfortable. But you weren't…regardless of what she felt, you weren't wrong for me, Addison." His expression looks a little pained now. "I don't think that you were wrong for me, or that we were wrong for each other. We were right for each other when we met, and when we got married, and we were right for each other for most of our twenties and thirties. I just think that for each of us…there was someone that was a little more right, in the end." He lifts his shoulders. "You know, I was at this conference in Phoenix like two years ago, and when I was signing in and grabbing my name tag, I saw your brother's name. I half-expected to run into him somewhere in the convention center, but I never did. How is…how is everyone?"

My parents are separated, but they still live together. My mother identifies as a lesbian, but only to the innermost part of her inner circle. She had a date last night, actually. She was in love with Susan. I still try to go to the memorial thing that Susan's sister hosts every year. Bizzy's suicide attempt wasn't quite what I thought it was. About three years ago, when we were there for the weekend, I felt a pull to go down to the basement and see the wine cellar. Mark went with me, and held my hand. It was weird, but I'm glad I did it. Addison feels no urge to share any of this though, and it is not because – or not only because – she does not want to add anything heavy to Derek's plate right now. She is just not ready yet. One day, maybe, if Derek going back to Seattle does not mean the end of…whatever this is. Renewed friendship is too strong. Renewed…ability to talk sometimes, Addison supposes, but that still teeters on the border of hopefulness, and she is trying to be realistic, more for Mark's sake than hers at this point. She went ahead and changed Derek's name from Zzz Derek back to Derek in her phone last night though. That felt right to do.

"They're all doing well," she says instead, which is true. It might be the condensed version, but it really is the truth. She does give Derek a bit more to work with though: "Archer is still in Boston – that's his home base, at least – and he's still writing. The Captain retired from the university a few years ago. And Bizzy is…you know." She offers Derek a faint grin. "Still Bizzy."

There is no time to say anything else, because suddenly Ruby has returned, with a green lollipop pinched between her fingers.

"It's my second one," Ruby proclaims.

Addison holds back a sigh. "Josie gave you two?" These nurses really do spoil her children.

"No. I accidentally dropped the first one, so Josie let me pick a new one." Ruby indulges in another lick, and then gives her mother a happy smile. "She said it's okay to start over, sometimes."

When Addison looks up, she notices Derek is staring at her. "Isn't that the truth?" He says it quietly enough that only she can hear it.

. .
. .

Four Years Earlier

"Look at you." Archer flicks his wrist lazily in Addison's direction while he sets his glass on a gold-accented console table in the entrance hall of the Montgomery home. "You're getting so -"

"If you say 'fat,' I will turn around and walk out of here."

"And deprive our dear father of a proper retirement party? I don't think so. Montgomery siblings suffer through family events together." He smiles as he approaches, and Addison smiles back, feeling mostly unreactive to everything other than her brother, and Clara, who is perched on her hip, and Mark, who is shutting the front door behind them. For as long as Addison has been considered a guest in this home instead of a resident, the quiet press of the door being closed has filled her with a sense of dread, but that feeling has started to soften thanks to the presence of Mark and Clara. It is not like she enjoys coming here, but she is considerably less stressed about the occasional trek to Greenwich than she used to be.

"Why, Archie…" Addison tips her head to the side, assuming what looks like a visibly touched expression. "Did you put your drink down just so you could hold Clara?" Mockery aside though, she can admit that it is a bit touching. It is not the easiest logic for Addison to articulate, but since Clara is more of a person now and less of a fragile baby, but not too much of a person since she is still little, she is much more interesting to Archer.

"I did. Turns out I like her more than I like Highland distilleries." Archer settles his palms just under Clara's armpits, and lifts her off Addison. "C'mere, you." Clara seems wary at first, but she relaxes when Archer gives her an encouraging grin. Addison knows it helps that she is standing right there, and is still in Clara's line of sight. Clara is a happy baby (well, toddler, technically, but it is so hard to think of her as not being a baby), but she is happiest with Addison and Mark, and usually needs some time to adjust to new situations.

"So, your old man only shoots girls, huh?" Archer asks Clara as he pecks her on the cheek.

"Archer." Addison sighs. "Don't say things like that." She had used a chunk of time when they were cruising along I-95 to text those they are closest to, to let them know their second baby would be a girl as well. Archer was one of the first people Addison informed, but she has held off on Bizzy and the Captain for now. She will tell them in the morning. Sharing the sex ahead of the party does not seem particularly egregious when it comes to things that might qualify as stealing one's thunder, in Addison's opinion, but it seems easier just to wait.

"Oh, come on. She doesn't know what I'm talking about."

"But we do," Mark says weakly.

"Congrats though. Seriously. I'm happy for you both. And I could have said something worse than the 'only girls' comment…like, I could have said something about the shotgun wedding you had in April," Archer shares, which prompts an under-the-breath I think you just did from Mark, and another sigh from Addison. "Is it still considered a shotgun wedding if it's the second baby out of wedlock, or only the first?" He muses, enjoying Addison's disgruntled look. "And thanks for the invite, by the way."

"You know it was just the three of us," Addison replies. Danielle – the photographer – and Savvy – their witness – technically count, too, but in most ways, it was just the three of them as they approached the podium in the small wedding ceremony room. "Plus, you were in Provence at the time with…" Addison clears her throat delicately. "A friend, I believe."

"Yeah, 'a friend.' We'll go with that." Archer kisses Clara on the cheek again, and this time she rewards him with a toothy grin. "You brought a TV remote as your plus one. Why was I not your plus one, little lady?" His voice softens to a teasing level, and Addison wishes she had her phone out to record it, both for sentimental reasons, and for borderline blackmail ones, since Archer would deny ever cooing at someone. "I might have been out of the country, but you could have at least asked me, Clara."

"Actually, we were able to get out the door without the remote." Addison stretches her arms out, wanting to hold Clara again, and Archer passes her back (and then wastes no time in reaching for his unfinished scotch). "Her new favorite toy is a stuffed duck. It's duck-duck-duck all day long."

"Just to, uh, get ahead of any potential jokes…" Mark looks briefly at Addison before directing the rest of his warning to Archer: "We don't need to hear what you were doing all day long in the south of France that may or may not rhyme with the word 'duck.'"

"Addie, I love this one." Archer raises his glass approvingly. "He's so much funnier than the starter husband," he tells Addison, who makes another face at him. "And it's settled then, as far as the ducks go. Any time I see anything remotely duck-related, I'm sending it your way." Archer smirks at Clara. "Just to drive your mommy crazy."

"Speaking of driving Mommy crazy…" Addison starts. Bizzy and the Captain are not the sort of parents who would rush to the front door to greet their children (or grandchild), but it does seem to be taking a long time for them to reveal themselves. Addison imagines her mother will deem it impractical that she and Mark brought Clara with them to the Captain's retirement party. Or she will wonder why Addison did not bring "help," so that after Clara has been shown off for a few minutes to the guests – in the way Addison and Archer sometimes were as children – she could be banished to the second level with her nanny. Addison and Mark have never left Clara at night though, other than their honeymoon weekend in Westhampton. Plus, their daughter has sort of reached a peak point with separation anxiety lately, so even though she would be in good hands with Paulina, or Lynette, or Savvy, it felt too painful to leave her overnight. "Where are Bizzy and the man of the hour?"

"Out back overseeing a few more things that still need to be set up. Something about the lighting. You know I was only half-listening. And there was also a thing about the gardening crew being a little too liberal with their shears that Bizzy was getting worked up about." Archer drains the rest of his glass, and taps it against the table's surface in a way that hints a refill is not far off. Addison envies him for having this option, and she assumes Mark – who will probably nurse just one glass of red wine the entire evening out of solidarity – feels the same way. "Let's get this over with."

Let's get this over with has been a theme Addison has always embraced when it comes to parties at the Montgomery estate, but this evening turns out to be surprisingly bearable. People she has not seen in years – colleagues in the same department her father chaired until last month, and a few couples who are "fixtures" at the clubhouse – do a remarkable job of not raising their eyebrows when Addison introduces her husband (not the husband they remember), and also do not fuss too much over Clara, who doesn't do well with over-stimulation. At one point, Addison excuses herself to put a now-sleeping Clara in the portable play yard they brought, and when she comes back downstairs, she catches Mark's eye just before she reaches the half landing. She feels a little like a princess descending the stairs…just a princess with a pregnant belly that is starting to strain against the material of her dress thanks to all the appetizers she has enjoyed, and a baby monitor in hand. It is something about how Mark looks at her though, honestly.

"We don't socialize enough anymore, because I am wiped out. I'd be more embarrassed about it if I wasn't so tired," Mark says later that night when they are getting ready for bed. He is vaguely proud of how quietly and coordinately they are going through their routine, given that Clara is sleeping nearby. Addison edges closer to him in the small attached bathroom, in a way that seems to read to Mark as, Move, I have to pee because I always have to pee now (she has also been strangely silent about back pain, leg cramps, and heartburn today, so he knows he can expect a few complaints on that front soon), but when he starts to take an accommodating step towards the door to give her some privacy, she reaches a hand out and curls it around his elbow. He realizes quickly how off-base he was. She looks upset.

"Addie…did something happen?" Mark tries to recall if anything stood out. Archer was, well, Archer, when they arrived, but Addison is usually amused by his observations, since there is an undercurrent of affection that seems to come along with them. And her interactions with her parents, and at least three dozen other people this evening seemed harmless enough.

"No. Nothing happened. I just…I'm feeling…" Addison's eyes briefly slant in the direction of the bedroom, which has been darkened save for the muted light from a brass table lamp that once belonged to Grandmother Forbes. This high-contrasted guest room looks nothing like her childhood bedroom with its paled-with-time pictures, heavy curtains, low poster headboard with swirled posts, and the reddish-brown walls she painted one weekend while Bizzy was at the country house (Bizzy hated the color, but apparently she did not hate it enough to have someone paint over it when Addison moved out), which is where Addison slept with Derek the last time she stayed here. The rooms are nothing alike, but there is still something about the idea of turning down the comforter and getting into bed – no matter how safe Mark always makes her feel – that just isn't working for Addison right now. "I guess I didn't really realize until just this second that I haven't, um, slept here since…well." Almost two years of therapy, and five years since it happened, and it is still hard to say the word, sometimes.

Mark's voice is hushed when he asks, "Since her suicide attempt?"

"Yeah. I'm…I'm okay." Addison makes a jerky little motion with her head to suggest going back into the bedroom, and Mark stays close to her as they exit the bathroom. She turns to her left, where there is a roomy, velvet-upholstered chaise near the window. "I think…I think I just need to sit down. Maybe we could just…hang here for a bit." She gestures towards the chaise, and then glances at Mark, who offers an agreeing nod. Addison gets herself settled on the chaise and stretches her legs out while Mark gathers some throw blankets nestled inside a curved, woven basket.

"You warm enough?" He is not sure which summarizes Addison's childhood better: Overlook Lane, or the fact that it is always cold in this house. He has just finished draping two blankets over them both, and has secured an arm around her. He wonders if maybe they should just leave. It isn't too late; they could be back in Manhattan by eleven if they left now. He also wonders if maybe he should show Addison pictures of Clara – that helped a few months ago when she had the difficult case. His phone is over on the bedside table though, and Addison said she's okay, and she does seem okay…just a little tense, and not inhaling and exhaling as evenly as she should be. "Good," he states when she tells him that she's warm enough. "I've got you. Just tell me if there's anything you need. I'm here."

Addison nods unquestioningly as he rubs her shoulder. I'm here. She has always loved that one from him, and its variations. It fits them. Both who they were, and who they are.

"Thanks. This is good." She twists a little so that she can rest her head on Mark's chest, now feeling more folded inside his warmth. "You know, I was thinking that at some point, as macabre as this is going to sound, I want to go down to the basement…to the wine cellar. It's like this piece of closure I feel like I need. It's definitely not going to be tonight or tomorrow morning, but maybe…maybe when I do eventually feel ready…maybe you could come with me, if you're all right with that?"

"Sure. Whatever you need." Mark gives it a few minutes, waiting until her breathing seems less fragmented, and then he quietly shares with her, "You picked the right dress, by the way." His lips are soft when they touch the top of Addison's head. "You looked beautiful tonight."

Hours feel indistinguishable to Addison when she wakes up the next morning. It takes her a moment to realize she is still in the chaise, with her cheek flush against soft velvet and her body mostly upright. She has not opened her eyes yet, but the involvement of light surrounding her closed lids puts the time at five, six, maybe even seven. It is too hard to tell, and even though she would prefer to hold onto sleep, she feels compelled to open her eyes once she has straightened one of her arms out, and her fingers have brushed against nothing.

"I'm right here, Addie." Mark's soft voice travels over to her as she fidgets in the chaise, trying to orient herself. She looks in the direction his voice came from through still-tired eyes, and finds him sitting up against the leather headboard, with Clara cradled in his arms. "Stay there," he adds when Addison starts to push the blankets off herself. "We'll come to you. And sorry, by the way…" he notices when she cups her neck in her hand. He knows some of his own body parts would have been screaming at him if he slept in the chaise all night. "That probably wasn't the most comfortable position to sleep in. I didn't want to move you though." It took Addison a while to fall asleep, and even though he felt bad for leaving her in the chaise, he was worried that if he woke her up so they could move over to the vastly more comfortable bed, she might struggle to get back to sleep. "I'll give you a massage later to make up for it."

"It's unintentional payback. I've probably done worse to your neck lately because of…things."

Mark turns his head to brush his nose against Clara's temple. "Your mother in all her second trimester glory said that very cryptically," he tells her, "but you still heard none of it." He places Clara in Addison's lap when she holds her arms out for her.

"Hi, my little love." Addison coaxes a few of Clara's sleep-mussed hairs away from her face. "I didn't hear her." She is able to make out the time on the wall clock: only a few minutes after six, which is earlier than Clara normally wakes up.

"I went to use the bathroom, and when I came out, she was starting to wake up, and she saw me," Mark says as he eases down next to them. "She's been really quiet though. Definitely still sleepy." He loops an arm over Addison's shoulders. "You doing okay?"

Addison smiles. More sunlight is beginning to filter in through the window now. Clara is about to fall back to sleep, and when she raises a hand to touch Addison's face in the sweet way she often does, her fingers only reach her mother's collarbone before they drop back down and her eyes flutter shut. Their baby – their baby girl – is quiet inside Addison. No swishy, fluttering motions at the moment. And Mark feels strong, and solid, and real, against her. And here.

"I am," she tells him. "I really am."

. .
. .

"Free-oh's mommy already knows who I am."

Addison glances at Ruby upon hearing this. Her daughter is leaning forward to address her remark to Clara, who is seated on Addison's other side. A combination of light and shadows are freckling Ruby's face, thanks to the large trees surrounding Levin Playground. It is not the girls' favorite place to play – they have differing opinions on which Central Park playground is the most fun – but it is a perfectly good option, and it is where they have gathered this morning while they wait for Derek, Meredith, and Theo to join them. Addison selected the playground, after asking Derek and Meredith what time would work best for them. Levin might not be the most equipment-loaded place to play, but there is plenty of shade and seating, water features that surround the granite fountain, and it works perfectly for the ages of all three kids. It is also the closest playground to the Montgomery-Sloan home in the event they need something, and outside of sheer convenience, there is something that is just…calming about being two blocks from the place Addison is most comfortable.

It turns out the blend of light and shadows is not enough for Addison to not be able to witness the boastful smirk Ruby is currently aiming at her big sister.

"You keep saying it wrong," Clara snipes back. "His name is Theo." She looks up at Addison after saying this though, and Addison can see the worry on her daughter's face.

"Meredith is excited to meet you too, Clara." She gives her daughter a reassuring look at the same time Mark touches Clara's shoulder, also providing support. He smiles at Addison next, and she feels her heart resettle a little. Four Montgomery-Sloans, sitting in a row on one of the green benches. Addison peers at her phone again. Derek, Meredith, and Theo should be here any minute – Derek had texted when they were getting into their cab.

Addison was not sure how any of the logistics would work for this, or how the logistics should work. She had started to talk about it with Mark yesterday morning – two days after Meredith's procedure. Should he text Derek? Should she? Should she send a text to both Derek and Meredith? Should they just…wait to hear from them? It was almost like Addison's concerns somehow summoned a resolution though, because when she looked at her phone after she and Mark had agreed to hold off a bit longer, there was a text from Meredith waiting for her: My warden wants me to take it easy for the rest of the day, but please pick a playground for tomorrow. I have never wanted to go outside so bad in my life.

"There they are." Mark points out Derek and Theo, who have just slipped inside the gated entrance on the other side of the fountain. Theo is sporting a water-friendly outfit just like the girls are. And then there is the woman on Derek's left, who is obviously his wife. Meredith. Mark assesses her in the same hasty way he would a patient who comes into his practice. Not sexual, not desirous, but just…noticing. She is not short by any means, but because Addison is tall, almost every woman who is not Mark's wife appears short to him – and she is slight-figured, other than the pregnant belly. Her hair is blonde and wavy, maybe between blonde and brown, but it looks closer to blonde, in Mark's opinion. He is hit with a memory of being in a bar with Derek in Syracuse between junior and senior year in college, and Derek saying he preferred brunettes to blondes (no doubt there was someone Mark was eyeing that night, and he was probably trying to find someone for Derek, too). A quick follow-up memory then washes over Mark: a different bar, a different year, but him teasing Derek, asking him how he wound up with a redhead, then.

"Free-oh!" Ruby shouts, and then excitedly runs towards him. Mark feels a sense of relief when Theo wiggles his hand out of Meredith's and dashes forward to meet Ruby, apparently not alarmed by the ponytailed girl barreling in his direction without much warning. Theo is wearing a toddler-sized backpack, which is visible, but even if it wasn't, Ruby clears things up immediately by yelling back at her parents and sister once she has had a chance to see it up close, "Free-oh's backpack has dinosaurs on it!"

Clara sighs in a very Addison-like manner. "Ruby's never going to say his name right."

"Probably not," Mark agrees. "But it's okay, kiddo. She's doing her best."

"Zero chill." This observation from Addison is only loud enough for Mark to hear. They both watch as Ruby confidently takes Theo's hand in hers and starts leading him over to them, with Meredith and Derek trying to keep pace. "She's obsessed with him."

Mark agrees, both about the chill factor (that much they have always known about Ruby though), and the obsession one. His legs feel a little weak as he stands up. The obsession thing though…he gets it. Mark does not know Meredith, or any of the people that might make up the Grey family, but he does know the Shepherds, and Theo is half-Shepherd. When Mark found himself seated next to Derek on their first day of first grade…didn't he like him on a near obsessive-level, too?

In the same way that Mark can split his life with Addison into a before and after – everything before they became a couple for real, and everything after – he can do the same with Derek. Twice. The original before and after has nothing to do with the affair and screwing over his best friend. It is about that first day of school, seated side-by-side in steel and chrome desks: life before and after their friendship began. Why Derek? Why not someone else? From the moment Mark started school, he never experienced a shortage of friends, but there was something specific about Derek – even though he could never really say what it was – that made an impression on him, in the same way the Shepherd family as a whole both made and left an impression on Mark.

I met my new best friend today. His name is Derek, Mark informed Jenny when she picked him up after school. He had known the dark-haired boy seated next to him for all of seven hours, but he was so certain Derek was his best friend.

Jenny glimpsed around with interest, as though waiting for Mark to point out his friend, but Mark tugged on her hand to get her attention. His mom already picked him up, he shared, and Jenny told him she would come earlier tomorrow so that she could meet Derek's mom and see if the boys could play together sometime. And then the after commenced.

. .
. .

Three Years Earlier

"You know, if you wanted…we could always get another tree topper." Mark gingerly drags a finger through the tinsel outlining the star. He and Addison are currently sorting through ornaments. The Christmas tree has been assembled in the gallery room kitty-corner to the fireplace, but they are not going to decorate it until December first (he questions zero things about Addison's holiday decorating process). He watches as her gaze drops to the tree topper he has just set down at the end of the dining room table. They have some personalized ornaments, like the Our First Christmas one Addison got him, the ivory baby carriages with Clara and Ruby's names, a handprint ornament Paulina helped Clara make last year, and a few smaller pieces Addison has picked up here and there while shopping with Savvy in recent years, but the majority of their tree will be covered with sleek-looking gold and white balls (plastic, because they're no fools with a two-year-old and a one-year-old to watch over), which makes the 1970s star look gaudy and out of place in comparison, Mark thinks. "I know this one is sort of dated."

"I love Jenny's star." Addison gives him a serious look. "As long as you still want to put it up, then I do, too." She smiles at the thought of Mark positioning the star on the top branch in four days' time. This will be the second year in a row they have utilized a "fake" tree, which sort of goes against everything Addison likes Christmas-wise, but it's just so much easier, at least during the current parenting stage they are in. "I'll have the chance to pick out more stars eventually, anyway. We're not 'there' yet with the girls – maybe next year for Clara – but I'd love for them to both have mini trees in their room, someday," she shares, and Mark nods. He can remember her saying that once.

Perhaps the star is the catalyst for Mark, because it is something about mothers that keeps him awake that night while all three of his girls are asleep. He eases out of bed, moving as quietly as possible as to not disturb Addison, and heads downstairs for a pen and the waiting-to-be-filled-out birthday card he picked up a few days before Thanksgiving.

He feels oddly strengthened the next morning, but still tired, and nearly does not feel it when Addison brushes her hand over his arm while he is making a cappuccino.

"Morning," she greets. "You're up early."

"I am." Mark gives her a warm smile, and then nudges the freshly-filled mug towards her. "I'll take the next one. But I actually…I wanted to show you the card that I'm thinking about sending to Carolyn for her birthday." He goes to collect the cushioned mailer off the table.

"Another thing you're early on," Addison says as she follows after him.

"Yeah." Mark hands her the unsealed mailer. It's true. Carolyn's birthday is not until the fifth, so he still has time, but the words last night…they came easier than he imagined, maybe because he has already had three Decembers to think about this. As is often the case, Mark finds himself measuring time not by a calendar, but by Addison and their daughters. There was the first December he and Addison were together, when she was six months pregnant with Clara. Then there was the one where Clara had been earth-side for nine months. Then last year's, with a toddler Clara and a newborn Ruby. And now…now Mark is coming up on a fourth December – a fourth birthday for Carolyn in the after – and he is out of excuses. He did not want to put anything significant in Carolyn's birthday card that first year, partly out of shame, but mostly because he did not want to overwhelm Addison, who was still hurting so much post-divorce. The last two years have featured the two of them in a much better, healed-over place, but life has been busy and tiring. Now though, they are no longer running up against a sleep-regression-plagued Clara in the second year, or the near-disorienting exhaustion of caring for a newborn in the third.

"It's like a 'choose your own adventure' book," Addison murmurs after she has pulled two separate envelopes out of the mailer. One envelope says open this one first, and the other is labeled with open second.

"Yeah. I just wanted her…well, you'll see, once you read the card. And I can always just do the usual," he adds, meaning the generic Happy birthday. I hope all is well. he writes in Carolyn's card, which is a similar sentiment to the birthday card she sends him each January. "If you'd rather I not send the picture and write…you know, everything I wrote. It felt good to just sort of write it out, so either way, it wasn't a waste of time." He shrugs. "I should probably just shut up and let you read it though."

"That would be nice." Addison teases the card out of the first envelope. She can feel the intensity of her husband's stare while she reads what he wrote:

Happy birthday, Carolyn. I hope it's a good one.

There is a picture of my daughters in the other envelope, in case you want to see them (no pressure). The older one will be three in March, and the younger one turned a year old in early November. It always felt like something was missing in my adult life, but I could never figure out what it was. It turned out to be them, and also the woman I married. I know how she came to be my wife was horrible to you, Derek, and your family though, and saying "sorry" to you personally is long overdue. So, I'm deeply sorry, and I'm even more sorry for how long it has taken me to actually say this to you.

I'm not a perfect dad, but I think I'm a pretty good one, and I think a lot of the reason why I'm a good one has to do with you and Christopher. Whatever knowledge I held before my first child was born mostly came from things I learned from you. I didn't realize until I became a parent that there can potentially be a huge difference between what you are taught yourself vs. what you teach your kids, and how you were loved as a kid vs. how you love your own kids. I know I was loved as a kid, but I think seeing how much you loved your kids, and all the things you did to keep them safe and help them know their worth had a bigger impact on me than anything that happened within my own home. Derek being my best friend always meant so much to me, not just because of him, but because it led me to you and the rest of the Shepherds. If I hadn't met you guys, I think I would have grown up not knowing that there are other ways to be loved besides dysfunctional ones. I look at my girls every day and I know what love is, and I know how to love them. I just wanted you to know that, because I wanted to say "thank you" for it.

- Mark

"I think it's really sweet," Addison says as she opens the second envelope in search of the referenced picture. It turns out to be a 4x6, captured on one of their phones maybe a month or two ago. Addison cannot pinpoint specifically when it was taken, because they have so many nondescript pictures exactly like this, where a smiling Clara is seated on the ground, and Ruby is right in front of her, secured in place by her big sister's arms and legs. This picture is nothing like the ones Danielle occasionally takes of them, where the background is prettier and more light-strewn, and every feature on the girls' faces is discernible. A tingle makes its way along Addison's nose, and she breathes in slowly, not wanting to become emotional. Mark's words are sweet, but really, the whole thing is sweet, and it is complemented by Mark's typical protectiveness. His strategy with the double envelopes reveals how careful he is being to not throw the picture in Carolyn's face, and he has also not shared too much about his babies. "I love that you did this, Mark – and that you wanted to do this. And I'm so glad you shared it with me. Go ahead and send it, if that's what you want to do. I'm on your side either way."

Mark sends the mailer off a few days later, timed so that it will probably arrive the day before Carolyn's birthday. And then…life happens. They decorate their Christmas tree, and promptly baby gate the thing to hell and back with a few MacGyver-style additions, because it turns out no one can undo a job that's been done quite like Ruby can. They shop for presents and squeeze in time to wrap them in between work and the "usual" activities and play dates for their kids. They entertain Naomi and Maya for a few days when they fly out for a visit. They cart the girls over to Dyker Heights to see all the lights and decorations. They host the grandparents and Archer the weekend before Christmas. Life happens to the point that Mark nearly forgets what he did, which makes his tone all the more solemn when he passes a different birthday card to Addison the following month.

"Carolyn wrote me back," he tells her as she opens the card to see what he has just finished reading:

Happy birthday, Mark! Thank you for the card you sent me last month, and for the picture you shared. Your daughters are beautiful. When I first saw your older one, I actually thought she looked just like Jenny other than the hair color. I hope you, Addison, and your girls are doing well. And for what it's worth, I always felt like if you met the right woman, that you would be a good father, and a good husband.

I appreciate your kind words, and the apology. You were always like a second son to me. We all make mistakes. Your mistake happened to be a very, very big one, but I know that you're sorry, and that you never meant to hurt Derek. I know how much you have always cared about him. I also hope it brings you some comfort to know that he is doing really well. Have a good birthday! It was great to hear from you.

Love, Carolyn

"That was nice of her." Addison rests her hand on Mark's shoulder after she has finished reading. "Are you glad you said what you said, then?"

"Yeah. I am."

Mark returns to penning quick, standard birthday cards after that, but the words he shared with Carolyn on that fourth birthday in the after, and the ones she answered with…it still means so much to him.

. .
. .

Gradually, and then suddenly. The phrase filters into Mark's head as he and Addison talk with Derek and Meredith. The kids are already making themselves busy on the more toddler-friendly of the two play structures while their parents stand close by. Clara and Ruby wait at the bottom for Theo each time he goes down a small metal slide, but it quickly becomes clear he does not need any help. The sheer presence of the kids has added a levity to the So how do you all know each other? factor though. Introductions took place first, naturally, and when Mark shook Meredith's hand, he was half-worried Derek would tell him not to touch her. He has also been doing everything he can – whether it is a normal response or not – to not touch Addison in front of Derek. But gradually, and then suddenly, the dialogue becomes less stilted. It is plain, surface-level things, maybe – how the Seattleites are adjusting to East Coast humidity, how well the kids seem to be getting along, how Meredith is feeling today, where Derek and Meredith have ordered food from during their stay – but it doesn't feel uncomfortable.

Meredith seems kind, from what Mark can tell. She interacted so easily with his daughters, and she made Clara smile when she told her that she sometimes braids her hair just like how Addison braided Clara's hair today. He can remember Addison saying when she found out that Derek was seeing someone, that whoever the intern was, she was probably "the Anti-Addison." Meredith is nice though – and niceness is certainly an Addison quality – in a way that doesn't strike Mark as performative. She would also clearly do anything to help her kids (proven by the fact that she and Derek flew across the country when there are other surgeons qualified to treat TTTS), and now she and Addison have just exchanged a joke about Scorpio kids that Mark doesn't quite get…so maybe they have more in common than Addison originally thought. Or more in common than just Derek, at least.

Before this life with Addison and their daughters, Mark had slept with several interns, and with many women – health professionals or otherwise – who would have been considered "too young for him," so he can recall, in retrospect, the cringe-inducing power imbalance that would have been at play each time. But, for whatever Derek and Meredith might have been, or started as, it appears like they regard each other with mutual respect. And not that Derek didn't respect Addison as both a person and a surgeon, Mark thinks, but he often had a way of making her feel bad about herself, especially towards the end of their marriage.

"So, maybe we should…" Derek looks at Mark, but his gaze quickly transfers to Meredith. He hesitates, but Mark gets the sense it's more about Meredith than it is about potentially talking to him one-on-one. "Are you sure -"

"Am I sure I'm going to be okay with my actual doctor right beside me, do you mean?" Meredith interrupts. She flips a hand towards Addison. "I'm not running a marathon. I'm just standing here, Derek." It makes Mark have to do everything he can to hold back laughter. There is another thing to add to the list of things the women might have in common, then: pregnancy-induced snark directed at husbands who hover a bit too much. "Just give me Theo's towel first. I'll be fine, but I'll sit down if I feel like I need to." She presents Addison with a small smile. "We'll be fine. Go talk, if you want to talk." Addison nods in agreement, and issues the same statement to Derek and Mark, but with less force.

Mark waits while Derek yanks a striped towel out of the diaper bag slung over his shoulder. He hands it to Meredith in anticipation of when the kids will inevitably move over to the sprinklers circling the fountain. Then the two men are in motion, walking side-by-side to one of the benches.

"I have Clara's giraffe in here." Mark is not looking at Derek, but he can hear the sound of Derek's palm patting the side of the diaper bag as he speaks. He smiles in response, feeling a little nostalgic. He can remember those days – really not that long ago – when getting out the door with the kids required so much more than just the kids. "In case she wants it back," Derek offers as they reach the bench. He puts the bag down, and then takes a seat.

"She hasn't said anything about it, so I think you're in the clear."

"It's so weird to see them in person, and to meet them," Derek shares as Mark sits next to him. "Just…those are your kids. Your kids with…with Addison. They're close in age." Derek's tone now sounds more thoughtful than disbelieving. "What's it like having two girls? I should probably know what's in store for me."

"You're seriously asking me that?" Mark starts to laugh, and then Derek does too, able to comprehend what Mark is going to say next. It occurs to Mark this is the first time he has really, really laughed with Derek in years. "You have four sisters, man."

"Still different. I didn't raise them."

"Well, having two girls…it's really fun," Mark tells him. He cannot help eyeing Clara and Ruby as he elaborates, "It's great. Sometimes people will say things like, 'oh, girls, there must be so much drama,' and I hate that. I mean, there is plenty of drama, don't get me wrong, but it's not because of the additional X chromosome. It's just because they're kids. And kids are weird and full of drama."

"Yeah, for sure. This morning, Theo had a meltdown after I cut up his banana. I went to throw away the peel, since that's the normal thing to do, and he…apparently he wanted to keep the peel. Not to eat it, thank God, but just to have it. The hysterics it caused…he's only marginally recovered. I honestly don't even know how we got in the cab without the damn peel. The most important meal of the day, maybe, but it also always seems to be the most dramatic one in our house. Or hotel room, right now. So, after Theo finished his breakfast, he had the banana peel right next to him while he was playing with his trains." Derek chuckles softly, and Mark again finds himself laughing with him. "The things we do for them."

"I have a scrub cap that has bacon and eggs on it," Mark says. Breakfast was the prompt for this, but he is still not sure why he is talking about it. He assumes Derek recognizes the significance though; Mark had always shunned any sort of cap that wasn't traditional blue. Themed ones were stupid, he felt – and he made no secret of sharing that he felt this way. "It's honestly…well." He pictures it now: a vibrant green cap with cartoon-looking bacon strips and fried eggs covering it. "It's kind of ugly, but the girls love it," he admits. The girls saw it in a medical supply store while they were out running errands with Addison, and they had begged her to buy it so they could give it to Mark. Addison and Mark had laughed over the cap later that night when Clara and Ruby were asleep. She told him he didn't have to wear it – we'll just take a picture of you in it at the hospital and show the girls – but Mark has worn it for every procedure in the OR since.

"I can't imagine having two newborns," he tacks on quickly, transferring back to Derek's original query. "But I guess you'll adjust, like parents adjust to anything. It's hard to give advice. Each one is so different, you know?" He watches as Derek nods. They are currently doing this…thing where they sort of look at each other, but also sort of don't. They just keep trading quick glances, and then resume facing forward, concentrating on the kids. "We thought we had it down, but we pretty much had to throw out the entire playbook when Ruby was born. Not that we expected her to be Clara's carbon copy, but it was still…not what we expected the second go-around." There were some similarities between the two as infants, sure, but Ruby fought sleep every step of the way, and she was just so active from the moment she started crawling. Baby gates always felt like more of a decorative choice for Clara, but they were necessary for Ruby.

"I'm sure your hands are pretty full with her."

It is said in a well-meaning way, but Mark still has to coach himself to be mindful of his response. He doesn't want Ruby pigeon-holed. The only time he has ever told Addison's brother not to do something – please don't call her that again, Archer – was when Archer once referred to Ruby (who was out of the room, so it was mostly meant as a term of endearment, not something he would actually say to Ruby's face) as "Naughty Ruby." Because the thing is, to Mark, and to his wife, too…Ruby isn't naughty. She is kind, and loving, and just…just so amazing. Clara might be their more sensitive child, but Ruby has just as big of a heart. She cried on Clara's first day of kindergarten because she wanted to go with her. As energetic and go-go-go as she is all the time, she will stay perfectly still whenever a butterfly lands on her wrist. For each night she was snuggled into Mark's shoulder last winter, she would always offer him a quiet, grateful I love you, Daddy, for staying with her when she was convinced there were monsters in her room. She was in tears just last week because she thought she was both, and when Mark asked her what she meant, she told him, "Clara's sister and her best friend. But she said Lucy and Phoebe are her best friends." And Mark can still remember the painfully sad look on Ruby's face about a month ago when they were at a Yankees game with Booker, Tasha, and Mel, and just as both families crowded together in the suite for a picture, Booker gently knocked Ruby's hand away from his when she tried to hold it for the picture. She might be loud and stubborn, and okay, sometimes she can be naughty, but she still feels and loves so deeply.

"Sometimes, yeah," he acknowledges politely.

"Reminds me of you a little bit as a kid."

That is something Mark can see, of course. Ruby definitely favors the kind of child he was – confident, assertive, and not always particularly inclined to follow the rules. But she is not broken in the many ways that Mark was while growing up. He doesn't think he has ever met a child as whole as Ruby, actually.

"Addison's mom calls them 'Sugar and Spice' sometimes, but they're not…they're not always what they seem to be. Or how they present themselves to others, I guess. Ruby is well-behaved, most of the time, and she isn't always so…loud." Mark's words are accompanied by a sheepish grin. "And Clara isn't always sugar-sweet. She has a temper sometimes, and bossy older sister energy. And she full on, like, roundhouse kicked Ruby in the head a few weeks back when they were fighting about something." He glances at Derek. "You saw plenty of that growing up." Derek laughs in agreement. The Shepherd girls always fought hard.

"Clara's going to be in…first grade?" Derek asks. Mark nods, grateful that talking about the kids seems to be their starting point. "And Ruby will be in kindergarten?"

"Pre-K," Mark corrects. "So, like senior year of preschool. She has a late birthday." He watches as all three kids cluster around Addison and Meredith. There is some animated chatter, it seems like, and then they are abandoning the swings and slides in favor of the fountain. He makes eye contact with Addison before she refocuses on Meredith, who is walking next to her as the kids skitter a few feet ahead. "We thought about kindergarten," he explains. "Academically, Ruby would be fine, but we talked with her teachers, and then Addison and I talked it over, and we felt like another year of preschool would be the better option for her. We're still working on impulse control and paying attention. Not that kindergarteners have impulse control or pay attention either, but you know what I mean. A good example was earlier when Ruby asked Theo if she could see what was in his backpack, but didn't exactly wait for him to respond before opening it up to inspect the contents."

"Well, he's always happy to show off his water toys, so I don't think he minded. And I guess that's something we'll have to think about with him when the time comes, since he has a late fall birthday, too," Derek replies. "The whole…Scorpio thing our wives keep talking about."

"The latest drama with Clara and Ruby is that ever since they met Theo – or Free-oh – they've been asking for a little brother. They've occasionally asked for a brother or another sister in the past, but not this…insistently. And they have friends who have little brothers, so it's not like this is a new concept to them." Mark feels his voice soften as he says, "Theo must be special."

"Yeah, he is."

Derek looks over at Mark, and this time, he fixes his stare a bit longer, to the point that Mark glances away, uncomfortable. They have arrived then, at the next part. You're the one who told him you wanted to talk, Mark heatedly reminds himself. You need to say something. Just start. But then, before he can, he hears Derek pull in air, in the deep, measured way he sometimes does before he speaks. It occurs to Mark that Derek – in the before, at least – has always been patient with him, and maybe extended him more grace than he sometimes deserved.

"I can't believe…" Derek begins, shaking his head. "That time I came back here to sign the divorce papers…I can't believe you offered to let me hit you."

"I mean, it's easy to say it…and I would have let you swing, but I'm sure at the last second I would have put my hands up to try to block the punch."

"Do you remember when we played that really good team from Lysander? The…the Vipers, they were called. We were ten or eleven, I think. This one kid was throwing elbows, but the refs kept missing it. You didn't miss it though, and when he clipped me in the chest towards the end of the first period, that was the last straw. You were all the way on the other side of the rink, but you skated over and checked the hell out of this kid. We all just stopped when we heard the sound of him hitting the boards. It wasn't the first time you'd checked someone, but I don't think you'd ever hit someone that hard before. He just…he dropped to the ice and started bawling."

"Yeah." Mark knows exactly what Derek is talking about, and he winces at the memory. He didn't just check the opposing player into the boards – he crushed him into the boards, and he was damn lucky the kid was only shaken up, and not actually injured. "My five minutes in the box for boarding ended up being all of the second and third period for that one. Coach Frank told me to stay where I was. He was pretty pissed."

"You went after anyone who tried to hurt me back then."

Mark manages a small nod. "Yeah. I…I did."

He can remember asking his mom once why she and Everett named him "Mark." I thought it was a strong-sounding name, Jenny told him. And I liked the idea that you would leave your "mark" on the world. A good "mark." And maybe Mark has managed to live up to Jenny's hope. He has done some good, after all, but he also knows he has left marks on people that were detrimental in the before. And none of those markings on the map were ever more significant than ones that connected him to Addison and Derek.

"So much time has passed." Derek rubs his lips together. "At first…there were moments where it felt like it hurt more that you cheated, not that Addie did. It was like there was this white-hot ball of anger inside me, but then…then it broke apart over the years. If I hadn't met Meredith, maybe it would have stayed in place longer, but eventually there wasn't time or even room for anything but my life with her. And my life in Seattle." He looks at Mark again. "You said…you said you wanted to say something though?"

4-7-8. Mark's chest feels painfully tight, but when he does one round of the breathing exercise his therapist taught him so many years ago, he can feel some of his anxiety start to splinter apart, maybe in the same way that Derek's anger eventually broke apart.

He opens his mouth. Words rise up.

. .
. .

Two Years Earlier

Addison shifts in her folding chair, neck arched as she turns away from the vacant stage to watch a few more parents slip through the propped-open entrance doors. Mark's Just got here text flashed on her phone screen a few seconds ago, so she knows he cannot be far away. She raises a hand to get his attention when she finally notices him. They split parenting duties this afternoon. Addison was the one to get Clara ready for her winter recital, and ever since she left her in the backstage area with the rest of her giggle-filled classmates and teacher, she has been holding court in the seating area, with a coat folded on the chair next to her to save a place for her husband. Mark hung out at home with Ruby while he waited for Paulina to arrive to watch her. They are all planning to meet up at their favorite pizza place after Clara's recital is over, which to Addison feels like an equal opportunity to celebrate Clara, and a way to ensure Ruby is not excluded from the entire evening. The idea of their three-year-old sitting still during the recital was laughable to Addison and Mark, so they know they made the right call by leaving her at home. Ruby is actually set to start ballet in the spring though. She wants to do it…mostly because her sister does it. Addison is having a hard time imagining that her littler one will enjoy ballet classes, but she knows there is a chance she is wrong, because Ruby often surprises her.

"You got Clara flowers?" Addison's lips tweak into a grin when she spots a collection of red roses, white carnations, and seasonal greenery tucked in the crook of Mark's elbow. She had been so busy getting Clara ready that she had forgotten about doing something like this.

"Yeah. I picked them up on the way here." He looks down at the sleeved bouquet. "Wasn't I supposed to get flowers?" It is their four-year-old's very first ballet recital, and although Mark is pretty sure he has never been to any kind of youth recital in his entire life, it's just one of those funny things that everyone seems to somehow know: it's nice to present flowers to the dancer after the curtains have closed.

Addison leans over to kiss his cheek in greeting once he has taken a seat beside her. "You didn't have to," she tells him, "but I'm glad you did. Clara will love them."

She feels Mark wrap his hand around hers shortly after their daughter and the rest of her class have started their performance to an instrumental version of "Jingle Bells." Addison takes a moment to register that all ten girls look so cute up there, and…somehow all equally, endearingly clumsy. But then she focuses solely on Clara.

Her tongue is poking out, Addison whispers to Mark, wanting to laugh, but also maybe wanting to reflectively cry over it. Clara did this as a baby, too, whenever she was concentrating on a task: stacking blocks, poking at buttons on the battery-removed TV remote, scooping up blueberries off her highchair tray. She looks nothing like a baby now though. In this moment, she seems so much older than four while carefully executing demi-pliés in her white tutu dress and ballet shoes. Her strawberry blonde hair is in a hairspray-stiff bun and accented with the same glittery snowflake hairclip the rest of the girls are wearing. She has on a dash of pink-swirled blush and mascara that Addison applied, but there is nothing over-the-top about Clara's appearance or the appearance of any of the other girls, and Addison is once again grateful that at least at this point, Clara is at a dance studio where stage makeup is not required.

I'm having a proud parent moment, Mark whispers back. Clara has shown him the dance many, many times at home over the past few weeks, but seeing it here, seeing it for real, is so different, and just so damn moving. He smiles when Addison squeezes his hand tighter, and says, me too.

Mark watches his wife more closely that evening when they are seated next to each other in a corner booth, waiting for their pizza to be brought to the table. Paulina has graciously taken the girls over to the toy vending machines on the other side of the small restaurant so they can collect bouncy balls, sticky hands, and other twenty-five cent capsule-covered trinkets they sincerely don't need. Clara is just as engaged in the process as Ruby, but each time she places a quarter in the drop-through slot, she needs help from Paulina on twisting the lever, since her arms and hands are fairly occupied with cradling her flowers. She did not want to leave them at the table with her parents.

"You okay?" Mark asks quietly. Addison is observing the girls, and he cannot quite figure out what her current expression is suggesting.

"Yeah. I am. I was just thinking…" she spins to face him. "I could never get out of my head when I danced, or when I played the piano or the violin. Those extracurricular things I did…they always felt more like jobs to me than things that brought me actual joy. And with Clara, yeah, I can see the wheels are always turning, and I know she's hard on herself and is concentrating on not making mistakes, but she also…she was glowing up there during her performance. And she was smiling. She was having so much fun." Addison gives him a happy-tinged shrug. "Things like this just make me feel like I'm doing something right. Like we're doing something right."

"We're doing something right," he echoes.

. .
. .

"Yeah. I want to say something." Mark looks at Derek, who has his eyes trained forward. They are still doing the contact-then-no-contact thing. He thinks Derek was the one to start it, and he recognizes the appropriateness of being the one to follow suit, to be the copier. How many times had he copied Derek throughout their friendship, either directly or indirectly? How many times had Mark tried to be like him, or worst of all, taken something from him? "I'm sorry. I'm just…I'm really sorry, Derek. When it started, it started because she was lonely and hurting, and she kissed me, and I've just…you know I've always been a sucker for wanting to make sad women less sad."

"Exclusively through sex."

"Right." He feels his cheeks heat up at Derek's words, at the hard set of his jaw. "It wasn't like I thought this was the only way to cheer Addison up, or that I was performing a good deed or something. Obviously there was something in it for me, which makes it pretty fucking self-serving. I know that. I always knew that, from the very beginning."

If Mark has learned anything throughout the scope of his life, it is that for as much strength as it takes to be honest with someone else, it takes even more strength to be honest with yourself.

"I wanted her to feel less sad, but it was also about the whole forbidden fruit, chase kind of thing. At least at first." It isn't something Mark actively thinks about anymore, but he can still recall the specifics. His efforts to stop Addison from crossing a line they couldn't come back from were halfhearted at best. Don't ask me to say no if you don't want me to say no. And, well. Once she confirmed she wanted this and they went into the guest room at the Montauk house, Mark was all encouraging words and effective, smoldering touch. I want you right now. Take your clothes off. I want to fuck you. Keep making noise. "And I think I just…I wanted her that night, yeah, because she was – and is – attractive as hell, but I think on some level, I also wanted to take something that was yours. And I know how malicious that is." He looks at Derek, and then looks away again. Clara, Ruby, and Theo are still happily, innocently playing in the sprinklers. "I was jealous of you, sometimes. Maybe even a lot of the time. I know your life wasn't perfect. I know your childhood wasn't perfect. What happened to your dad was horrible, and just…just so unfair. But, you know what my household was like, when I was growing up. And then with Addison…in addition to the loving, put-together family you had, you also had a wife who loved you with her every breath." He stares at Derek longer this time, and Derek meets his eyes before glancing forward. "Because Addison did love you, you know. It wasn't…I know she talked about it in the letter she sent you, but it wasn't like she stopped loving you. That spring, she had talked about leaving you, but I don't know for sure that she really would have, and she admitted as much later, too. I think if you had checked back into the marriage…I'm sorry, but you did check out." Mark feels nervous to share this part, but Derek does not offer an objection. Instead, his chin drops to form a half-nod. "I think if you had checked back in, Addison would have at least thought about ending things with me. And same with…same with if you had wanted to work things out with her after you caught us. I don't know if you know this, or if she mentioned it in the letter she wrote – I don't know everything she said – but, uh, your chief out there, I can't remember his name, but -"

"Richard Webber."

"Richard Webber," Mark repeats. "He called her, once. That July. We'd just found out she was pregnant with Clara. He asked her if she'd be willing to fly out to Seattle to help with a case. It was a woman who was expecting twins, and they actually…actually, it was a TTTS case." Derek's gaze is sharp when he looks at Mark again. Surprise is etched across his face. "I know." Mark smiles a little, and then Derek does, too. "Life is so freaking weird. And Addison…she really did think about going out there."

"Richard probably wouldn't have even told me if she was coming," Derek says, perhaps more to himself than to Mark. "But she…she didn't come." He peeks at Mark again. "Someone else must have consulted and done the procedure. We're a top ten hospital, but our neonatal and maternal fetal medicine departments…they're good, but they've never really been standouts."

"Addison called some surgeon she knew, who said she could do it, so she went to Seattle instead. Then I did a speech…thing. And we just…we found a way to make it work. The guilt took a long time to go away, but it's not like we ever stopped feeling bad about what happened. It's just, like you said earlier, about your life in Seattle being too full for anything else, or something…that's sort of what it was like for us, too, once enough time passed." He watches as Derek nods. "It's probably not worth much to you, but the guilt and self-loathing we felt during the affair, and how much both those things were amplified in the aftermath…it was a pretty decent punishment."

Mark takes a deep breath. Everything he has said far, and everything he still hopes to say…none of it is really different from what he has always wanted to say to Derek in the after. It is a story with three sides. And this one is his.

"I loved her so much," he continues. "Well, love. I just…I can't even put into words how much I love her." He blushes a little, staring at his knees. "I told I loved her for the first time that February, but I think it was even longer than that, that I had feelings for her. I just didn't really know it until later…if that makes sense. We started spending more time together during the last two years of your marriage, just us. I think a lot of it was because she missed you, so I was like a stand-in, at least at first. And I missed you, too. You were always…work became your life. And neither Addison nor I are the kind of people who like to be alone. Loneliness is what made all of this start, honestly. None of this probably would have happened if we'd both started therapy like two decades ago, when we arguably should have. And…" Mark lets his words spirit away when he notices Derek open his mouth. "Go ahead," he offers.

"One of the guys at my old practice…Kurt," Derek says. "He was one of the ones to buy me out. I remember him asking what I had planned for the weekend – the weekend you and Addison went to the Hamptons. So…that weekend. And he seemed…it wasn't that Kurt really said anything, but I could just tell he was weirded out that my wife and another guy were going somewhere without me. But it wasn't like that. Or it wasn't until it wasn't, I mean. We were just…we were all friends. It was far from the first time you two had gone somewhere without me. But of course after all that happened, I felt like such an idiot, and a fool." He looks at Mark, mouth twisting with some scrutiny. "That was really…Addison said in the letter…that was really the first time something happened? And she initiated it?"

"It was the first time, and yeah, she kissed me first. Well." Mark stops himself, wanting to be completely honest. "There was a kiss in the kitchen, first. That morning. She felt horrible about it, and I did too, of course. It was just a quick one, and then that night she kissed me again and that was when we actually -"

"I know," Derek cuts in. "She put that in the letter. Feel free to skip the R-rated parts."

"Right." He swallows uneasily. "And it's not like… I kissed her back, both times, which wasn't okay, but it never would have occurred to me to kiss her first. There wasn't anything before that. We really were just friends. And you were our best friend. Addison loved you so much. Even after she told me that she loved me…she still loved you, and was still in love with you. She loved you after everything exploded, too, and after the two of us decided to make a real go of it, and after the papers got signed. How she felt for you…it took a long time after you left for that to fade for her." The images no longer take up space in Mark's head, but each one is just as clear as the next, memory upon memory of Addison's pain as he thinks about it now. Picking a sliver of glass out of her foot the night Derek walked in on them. Catching her as she nearly fainted after Derek told her over the phone that he wasn't coming back to New York. Finding her sobbing on the floor of the shower. The wrinkled tissue sticking out of her closed fist when she came out of the building where she had signed away every part of the Montgomery-Shepherd marriage. And the wild, ruined look in her eyes later that day when he was holding her while she cried. "I think on some level, regardless of how we felt for each other, we knew that we had to find a way to make it work between us. Staying together because of the pregnancy was a motivating factor, yeah, but ultimately the 'how' and 'why' was more about the fact that if it didn't work out, then that meant we threw our lives away – and you away, and her marriage away – on a fling. She was…" Mark takes a slow breath. "She was broken after you left. We both were, but her especially. I can't imagine how horrible that time was for you, and if we're doing the Who Had It Worse Olympics or something…" he takes another quick glance at Derek. "It would make sense that you'd be the winner, since you no longer had either of us, and we were the ones who did something to you, but it was still hard on us, too. I didn't…I didn't mean to make you feel like an idiot and a fool. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, even though I also never did anything to make it stop happening. The truth is, I wanted you both. I didn't want to lose either of you, even though I knew that was going to be the inevitable outcome. I'm sorry though. I'm sorry for all of it: the lying, the sneaking around, what you had to see that night. I don't expect you to tell me that 'it's okay,' or that you forgive me, but I just wanted you to know that your friendship meant everything to me. I wish you being with Meredith and me being with Addison hadn't happened how it happened, and I also wish I hadn't been so selfish and inconsiderate. I knew it was wrong. You were my best friend. You were my brother, and until I fell in love with Addison…I need you to know that you were the most important person in my life." Mark angles himself towards Derek, and is determined to remain looking at him this time. His throat feels tight again, but he pushes through the sensation. "I would have given up everything to be with Addison, but of all the things I would have given up…you would have been the very last."

He watches as the man he has known nearly all of his life opens and closes his mouth. Mark's heartbeat feels loud in the seconds that follow.

"Jesus, Mark…" Derek finally says, his low tone conveying some astonishment.

"I know." He is a little embarrassed that Derek has acknowledged in not too many words just how direct, open, and vulnerable all of this was. Especially coming from him. "I say things like this now, sometimes." He grins weakly, but then sobers again. "Anyway, that's…that's what I wanted to tell you. So…thank you for listening."

Bodies are made to heal. Mark can remember an attending saying that to him once when he was a first year resident. Addison was familiar with the expression, too. It is such a hopeful one. He can also recall Addison saying once that Derek had mentioned something about the brain and spine being unforgiving…just like her then-husband could be, at times. But, Mark has seen Derek do what the average surgeon couldn't do, time and time again. Derek always responded so quickly and brilliantly in medical situations, and anything crisis-related, but otherwise, it was more his personality to carefully assess whatever it was he was facing. He processed things slowly. Methodically, incrementally, deliberately.

Mark cannot change anything about the past. None of them can. All that history will always be there. They don't relive it anymore, but they still lived it, even if now they are older, wiser, more whole, and more therapy-ized. He has Addison, and Derek has Meredith, and they have their kids, and they are all happier for it. Derek had to have Addison in order to get to Meredith, and Addison had to have Derek in order to get to Mark. There is no way to forget or overlook though that everything that happened between them involves beginnings and endings. A before and an after.

"Thank you for telling me," Derek says softly.

So maybe what happens next is one of the things that falls between healing and forgiveness: acceptance. Mark is not sure what else to say, or if there is really anything left to say. His lips are still parted wordlessly, but nothing else comes to him. And then he realizes Ruby is heading in their direction, her filly legs doing something between a skip and a run. He can see Addison in the background, and he can tell in the firm set of her elbows she told Ruby to wait…but Ruby usually waits for no one.

Perhaps this time though, someone in this odd little mix of Shepherds, Sloans, and Montgomerys actually has the timing right.

"Looks like we're about to have company." A grin is playing at the corners of Derek's mouth.

Reminds me of you a little bit as a kid. Mark thinks back to what Derek said earlier. For as much as he wanted to be Derek's friend – and was convinced they were best friends from the very beginning – it wasn't like it was one-sided. Derek had wanted to be his friend, too. He was just as drawn to Mark as Mark was to him.

"We're gonna go see the boats." Ruby comes to a liquid-sloshing stop in front of them in her water shoes. She looks at Derek, and informs him, "There's a big pond over there." She thrusts a finger at the paved path that leads to Conservatory Water. "Derek…" Ruby touches his wrist, and her blue-green are wide with seriousness when she says, "You cannot let Free-oh put his toy boat in the water. It will float away and get lost. The other boats in the pond have 'mote controls, but Theo's boat doesn't. I already checked."

Derek smiles a little wider. "Have you lost something in the pond before, Ruby?" He asks.

"Yes." She directs a surprisingly tough glare at Mark, as though he and Addison both hadn't warned her not to toss her little blue whale into the pond last spring. "My whale. He might still be out there though, since he can float," she contributes hopefully. "But I just can't see him."

"I know what pond you're talking about," Derek shares. "I remember the sailboats. I actually used to live here." Ruby's head bobs to the side upon hearing this, and Mark can understand her perplexed expression. During the initial conversation he and Addison had with the girls on Monday – about watching Theo while Addison operated on Meredith – they had mentioned they used to work with Derek, but Ruby did not have any follow-up questions about this, and had perhaps not realized that work meant here.

"Why did you move away?" She asks it curiously, in the way any four-year-old might, but Mark also catches the borderline-critical note in her voice, the effect of being a Manhattan resident. Why would anyone live anywhere but here?

"For work," Derek tells her. "And then I met Meredith, so I…I stayed there."

"And had Free-oh." Ruby points to Meredith. Mark notices that Addison, Meredith, Clara, and Theo are walking over to them now. He assumes that Addison and Meredith determined that he would have brought Ruby back over to them by now if the men were still trying to talk. "What are their names?" Ruby asks Derek, referencing the twins.

"The babies don't have names yet," he says. "We're still trying to decide."

"You should name one of the babies Ruby."

Derek turns to face Mark. "Well, she's truly a Sloan."

"Montgomery-Sloan," Ruby solemnly intones. "That's my last name."

"I know." Derek offers her a smile. "When you said that, it just reminded me of your dad. It's a compliment. I've known your dad since we were kids…we met when we were just a little older than you are." Ruby seems happy to hear this, and Mark discovers that the last bit of anxiety weighing inside him seems to have dissipated. "I guess we should go see those boats. You can help me make sure Theo doesn't drop any of his bath toys in the pond."

"Daddy." Ruby proffers a hand to Mark. "You're coming too, right?"

"Yeah, Rubes." He threads his fingers around hers. "Let's all go see the boats."

. .
. .

---

Author's Notes/References to Various Episodes

A quick note: I don't like to police reviews, because who has time for that, but please do not review if all you're going to say is "update soon," or if you're only going to comment to make a suggestion for what I should write next (that literally has nothing to do with the fic). It's rude as fuck. And my propensity for four-letter words aside, I wasn't raised by wolves, and anons weren't either. So. Please be good humans. If you don't have something nice or constructive to say about the chapter/work you just read, then…don't say anything. It's such a disservice to the people giving you this stuff for free. That's basically what Thumper said in Bambi, right?

ANYWAY, onto the references:

Savvy's "food on top it" comment was a nod to the iconic Addison/Mark scene in PP 3x11.

"Bright and shiny" was a Derek/Meredith thing from Grey's 3x08, and then a Derek-to-Addison remark, but I don't want to talk about it, because "Staring at the Sun" had peak Asshole Derek Energy in it.

PP 2x16 (crossover ep): I've done the whole quote before, and referenced it in this fic as well, but basically, Addison told Derek that his mother thought "[Addison] was rich and privileged, and wrong for [Derek]." So many of my villain origin stories begin with Carolyn Shepherd, you have no idea.

I tried to match some of the details of Addison's childhood bedroom to PP 4x14, when we get several glimpses of the room that Addison and, ugh, Shake My Girlfriend Sam are sleeping in (I think the walls are like a dusty reddish-brown, but the lighting was a bit tricky in those scenes). They never explicitly stated it was Addison's room, but it definitely *seemed* like it was her room, given the various pictures, trophies, and flower-ish wall art. And at 29:20, there's a picture on the second shelf that is clearly meant to be Addison and Derek (sigh).

The "Anti-Addison" remark was a nod to Grey's 2x01. I also referenced this in chapter 34.

Mark's bit to Derek about throwing his life and Addison's life away on a fling comes from Grey's 3x05. Addison to Derek: "I wanted to believe that we could make it work. I wanted to believe I hadn't thrown my marriage away, that I hadn't thrown my life away on a fling…"

Thank you for your patience with this update! I'm definitely winding down with this fic (and I will really miss this baby once it's done). The next chapter *might* be the penultimate one, but I won't know for sure until I start actively working on it. It should be the final one that involves Derek/Meredith having an active presence though, but they'll both be mentioned in the last chapter (which will probably have more of an epilogue feel to it). Buuut there are wedding flashbacks and other cute present day scenes coming up, too. Thank you for your support, and for following along!