Addison Montgomery Shepherd's Point of View

Several Weeks Later

Jazlynn 30 Weeks

"What happened?" Mark asks, eying a cut on my wrist. I hadn't realized that my sleeve had lifted up. We were in the NICU, and I am holding Jazlynn again. I have been spending every waking moment in here, holding her, rocking her, and talking to her gently. I watch in astonishment as she grows, and sleeps. It's like she changes every day. She's more expressive now. She has gained weight beautifully and weighs around three pounds now.

"Oh." I say quickly, pulling my sleeve back down. "Nothing, just a scratch." Mark raises his eyebrows at me. I know that as a plastic surgeon he would have noticed the depth of the cut, and then the length and known instantly that what I'm saying isn't the truth.

"Please don't lie to me."

"It's really nothing." I say, dismissively. "I've just been under so much stress lately with the police interviews and Derek being in jail and the court case." I want to talk to him about the baby. How close she's become to her. I don't know how to tell him I want to keep her. That was never our plan. The thought of bringing Jazlynn home terrifies me. I feel like I owe her something though. I brought her into this world, I owe her a good life. I want to tell him how terrified I am that Jazlynn will grow up bitter and angry exactly like her father, even though he will never be the one to raise her or get visitation. I want Mark to know how confused I am feeling. I don't understand the love and devotion I am already feeling towards this baby despite where she came from.

"I want to keep the baby Mark." I say. I am sure that he already has his suspicions this was coming, but we have never clearly talked about it like this. "I want her to know that she is loved."

"An adoptive family can love her too."

"Not the way I can."

"Addison…" He starts, but his eyes grow worried as he looks at the baby in my arms. I look down too. Jazlynn's coloration is off, and she's stopped moving. She is breathing, just laying still and silent in my arms. I look up at the monitors, nothing seems wrong at first, but without warning Jazlynn begins to seize in my arms, and the monitors start going haywire. Mark takes her from me and quickly, but carefully places her in the incubator on her side. I press the code button, and then with shaking hands so bad that I almost drop the syringe I draw back a clear medication into the syringe and inject the anti-convulsion medication into Jazlynn's I V. I was the closest. I know my away around the NICU better than Mark, or Amelia, perhaps even Arizona. The baby needed the medication quicker than a team could have responded to prevent brain damage. Jazlynn calms for a minute as the medication starts to work, and Arizona runs in with a handful of interns, before the monitors go flat and Jazlynn codes. Arizona starts CPR, demanding that both Mark and I leave, we refuse.

"I don't have time for this right now." Arizona says, giving the order to administer epinephrine and motions for Amelia, who had come in right after the interns to help get us out of the room. Today you are not doctors, today you are parents now leave! I will update you as soon as I know anything."

"What the hell happened?" Mark exclaims the moment we are in the hallway. Amelia had returned to the room to help run the code with Arizona. My mind is sprinting as I think back to the seconds between the time that Jazlynn was fine, and the time that she was coding. It really was just seconds. I have helped in hundreds of these situations. Seizures can be common among low birth weight or preterm babies, and they occur in between six to forty-eight percent of babies in the NICU. They do not generally cause long term damage. This is something else. I force my brain to think of everything. Could I have accidentally pinched one of the baby's cords while holding her? My hands were shaking so bad, could I have given her too much Phenobarbital? I shake my head at the thought. Certain that I gave the right dose, but my mind keeps second guessing itself. I was holding her. I should have responded faster. This is my fault.

"I know… I know…" He says, sinking down to the ground, puling me down with him. We sit like this for what seems like hours, I laid my head in his lap, starring at the wall, dissolved into tears. I can hear what they are saying inside the room as they work on her, as they run the code. I know what's happened before Arizona even opens her mouth when she comes out of the room.

"I'm so sorry Addison." Arizona says, shaking her head. "The seizure was too strong…"

"I need you to say it." I say, looking up at Arizona and sniffling. "If you don't say it, it isn't real. I won't believe you unless you say it."

"Jazlynn's body has been through so much. The seizure caused her heart to stop. We were unable to resuscitate her." Arizona's eyes are welling up with tears now, how many times had she delivered bad news? It doesn't get easier. It's especially hard when it's someone you know personally. "She died." She whispers.

"You mean you killed her?"

"Addison that's not fair." Amelia interjects. "There was nothing that could have been done."

"Addie…" Arizona says, trying to be sympathetic, but missing the mark. "She was born extremely prematurely, sometimes in babies like this, they appear to get better before they get worse. I hoped things would end differently, but with her extreme prematurity….We always knew that this may be a possibility didn't we?"

"No, we did not!" I exclaim. "You hoped? I knew she would be fine because she is MY DAUGHTER. She is MY BABY. What good is being a neonatologist with advanced studies and certifications if I cannot even save my own baby? She would have been fine. She could be fine right now if only…" Arizona goes to hug me, but I pull away from her. She tries again, explaining how they had done everything they could to revive the baby, but her heart was too weak. She was too far gone. I don't even stop to think about the repercussions of my actions as I slap Arizona hard across the face.

"You killed her, I want nothing to do with you." I say. Arizona brings her hand to her face, shocked, but lets me go as I turn and run to the nearest bathroom. I sink down to the toilet as an uncontrollable wave of vomiting comes as the realization that the baby is dead sinks in. I struggle with why this affects me so much. I spent so long not even wanting the baby. How had those very brief moments at delivery and then the time together in the NICU changed that? Had anything changed or was I just glamorizing the idea of being a mother? Did I really want a baby, or was I just trying to do the right thing? Why am I letting my emotions get in the way of my judgement? I hit my head hard against the wall several times, then sink back down to the ground, completely breaking down again when the awareness of exactly what this means hits her all over again. Her motives no longer matter because the baby is dead.

"You just had brain surgery. You shouldn't bash your head into the wall unless you want a round two." Amelia says, coming into the bathroom.

"How did you know?"

"It's a pretty distinctive sound." She sits down outside the closed stall door. "It's not Arizona's fault you know. She is already beating herself up enough over this. She doesn't need any help."

"I know." I admit, and for a second, I feel bad, but it's not Arizona's baby who was lost.

"It's not your fault either, Addison."

"I could have…" I don't know what I could have done though. Maybe I could have just been a better mother to her. Maybe If I had gotten my life together sooner, she would have been stronger in the womb and stood a fighting chance when she was induced too soon.

"It likely started out this way Addison. There was nothing that could be done." Amelia soothes. "You know that." She adds as if it could make this confusing nightmare of a world cease to exist.

"I don't know anything right now." I admit, slowly opening the door. She offers me her hand and helps me to her feet. "Right now, I just want to disappear."

"Don't we all?"

They put us in a room with a cuddle cot. They allow us to hold her and spend time with her for the few days that follow her death. We don't have much family to call. Bizzy and the Captain didn't even know I was pregnant again, and Derek's family, well aside from Amelia would they even care? Someone from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep comes and takes pictures of Jazlynn for us. Actual preemie clothing is too big, but we are allowed to dress her. We got something from a doll store. We put her in a purple sleeper with teal flowers and purple bows. We pair this with the matching hat and wrap her in the blanket that came with the outfit. She is tiny… so tiny. It's strange to hold just her and not her plus all of the wires from the machines keeping her alive.

"I'm sorry." I whisper to her on the final day when they come to take Jazlynn to the morgue. I'm sorry I couldn't say you." I say, giving her a gentle kiss before letting her go.

A WEEK LATER

Mark and I decided to take a day trip to Mount Ranier National Park. We hiked slowly up the trail until we find the perfect place to spread her ashes. A meadow. It is full of early spring wildflowers. There is a babbling brook on the other side, and the still snow-capped mountain in the background. We sprinkle her ashes over the meadow, letting the wind catch them and spread them further.

"I'm so sorry." I say carefully.

"For what?" Mark asks, obviously confused as he helps close the container that once contained Jazlynn's ashes so that we could bring it back home with us.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess with me." I say, sinking down against a tree, just looking at the beautiful place we had laid her to rest.

"Addison?" He asks, and I look up at him. "You can't go back to him now. You know that right?" Mark asks, he gently lifts my face up with his hand, our eyes locks. I hate the look he is giving me. He thinks I'm going to run… that I'm going to flee like I did after Ella died and go back to him.

"He didn't mean for this to happen Mark." I try justifying Derek's actions, but even I know this is wrong. When he attacked me that day it was with the knowledge that that specific combination of chemicals and medications would induce a pregnancy. He attacked me knowing that Jazlynn wasn't strong enough to survive outside of the womb.

"If you know back you are doing her a major disservice." Mark helps me up and we begin the hike back down the mountain and to our vehicle. Going down is a lot slower than coming up. The hike up has taken a lot out of me, I am not even six weeks post op yet. Mark had pointed out that we could have always spread Jazlynn's ashes after I had more time to recover, but I insisted on doing it as soon as humanly possible.

"I don't think I can testify Mark."

"You might not have to…" He says, and then explains how the judge has agreed to look into taking video testimony or perhaps finding other accommodations given the circumstances.

"If this goes to trail the press is going to have a field day. 'World famou neonatologist Addison Forbes Montgomery Shepherd bruised and almost killed by her doting neurosurgeon husband with a fatal brain tumor." I say, trying to make my voice sound official, reporter like, but then I stop, look up to mark, tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't want to stand up in court and let all of those people and press know what he did to me. I don't want the entire world to know how weak I was to allow it. Somethings are better left unsaid Mark."

"You are anything but weak. You are brave. You are a survivor. You could do this if…" Mark starts but It doesn't matter. I quickly change the subject to something else. How pretty the flowers are this time of year and wondering if he'd like to go have lunch at that cute little café and gift shop near the entrance. Avoidance and distraction. It usually works for him. We get the rest of the way down the mountain without incident and do go to the little café where we are seated and order a simple meal, sandwiches, and chips. A green juice for me and a coffee for Mark.

"I'm sorry I'm pushing you. If you need more time to process, I understand." Mark says. I don't know why he is pushing this hard. I know he just wants me to be safe; to be free from Derek's abuse. He wanted to look at me and see me, not the bruises that were caused by Derek's hands. I am not even sure why he is apologizing. It seems to make him feel better though, and so I nod in acknowledgement that I've heard him.

"I know you want me to testify. Everyone wants me to testify, but I have to do what's best for me. I have to be selfish for once. If I drop the charges and they call me to testify anyway I have spousal privilege. If I do not want to testify against them, I will not be forced to."

"Spousal immunity does not apply in cases of domestic abuse Addison."

"It does and if I invoke spousal privilege, they will have to make the case based solely on the evidence they have from the hospital which isn't a lot to go on."

"It won't make that much of a difference." He says. "I will be called to testify on what I saw. Do you really want that? He is still going to serve time Addison."

"You'll be called to testify regardless. What you say is the issue here. Your best friend is dying Mark. He is going to die anyway, no matter if it is in the prison infirmary or Seattle Grace Hospital or at home on those stupid flannel sheets with the paisley's that he loves so much. Derek is not going to be an issue for much longer. The least you could do is spare me the humiliation of a trial. You claim you love me, yet you're willing to put me through this? Right now, in this moment you're the villain here. Not Derek."

I put on one of my nice outfits. I do my hair and makeup just right. I grab my purse and take a cab to the Kings County Jail where Derek is being held, pending trial. They check my identification, and then my bag, assuring themselves that I do not have any hidden contraband, that I am not trying to smuggle in weapons or drugs. They escort me to a small room marked "Visitors." I briefly wonder why they are not doing a video visitation or a visit behind glass, but the office where I checked in assured me that there would be an officer present at all times. I sit down at one side of the table, fidgeting with my wedding rings that I still have not yet removed. They bring him in, his hair is a mess. He is wearing a orange jump suit and some tan shoes that resemble BOBS. He has a black eye.

"Addison?" He asks, obviously surprised as he takes his seat.

"What happened?" I ask, looking him over. It is obvious to me that his charm, while so prevalent in the world of medicine has done nothing for him in the world of incarceration.

"I got into a fight." He says, "Don't worry, I'm fine. I won."

"Of course, you did." I say, soothingly.

"Why are you here? There is a restraining order still isn't there?" He asks and then "You look good." I ignore this, not really sure what he means. Did the guilt of knowing that I am wearing his bruises under my clothing make me look bad to him? It is an odd thing after this many years to look in the mirror and not see the rainbow of bruises.

"I just wanted to let you know that I am dropping the charges. I just want you to come home Derek. This is all one big misunderstanding." I say and he looks at me so sadly that I feel a chill rush down my spine.

"Why would you do that?"

"I know that you love me. I know that you'd never hurt me. You don't deserve to be in jail for the rest of your life for something you're innocent of." I say, very intentionally, cautious of the conversations being recorded.

"That's good Addison. I was hoping you'd do the right thing. How is the baby?"

"She's dead." I whisper, looking down at the table.

"I'm so sorry." He says, and then "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. She was doing better, but they have complications of extreme prematurity listed on her birth certificate. The seizure cause cerebral hypoxia which caused cardiac arrest. There was nothing that could have been done." I answer. He takes my hand in his, squeezing tightly.

"It's okay." He says, so soothingly. He lets go of my hand, and gently wipes the tears from my eyes. "Addison, if you want, when you're ready we'll try again. Once we've had time to grieve this lost."

"Maybe it's just not in the cards for us." I say, I don't even have to try. I really am sad. "We spread her ashes on Mount Rainier. We hiked up to the one place, you know, where the sunshine looks like glitter falling down on the meadow of wildflowers and you can smell the crisp dampness from the brook? There is still snow on the surrounding mountain, but the meadow was in full bloom. It was beautiful, now every time we hike the mountain we can remember her."

"I wish I could have been there with you." He says, but then gestures around to the prison like what is there to be done. "Who's we?" He asks slowly.

"Amelia and I… I was going to go on my own, but Amelia wouldn't let me since I am still recovering from surgery. She unfortunately knows nothing about hiking and was worried about me getting altitude sickness and falling off a cliff. The altitude isn't even that high." I say, rolling my eyes. It's not the truth, but it is an objection that Amelia raised when I told her what I was doing. I decided spur of the moment Derek would take the news of me hanging out with his little sister better than if I were hanging out with Mark.

"And Mark?"

"He knows that Jazlynn wasn't his. He decided that since I know the trail well, we could go on our own." I hate lying to him, but I am pretty damn good at it. I try to not think about the image of Mark helping me up the mountain. The hand on the lower part of my back, gently pushing, supporting as we slowly made our way up the meadow. How he held me everytime I needed to stop. How cruel I was to him in the café.

"You have five minutes left." The guard says, and we both jump. We had forgotten he was there.

"I don't like the thought of you girls alone on the mountain. What if something had happened? There is no cell phone signal up there." He asks, fake sincerity.

"I'm sorry. We won't go again on our own. I just wanted to lay her to rest somewhere nice." I say, my bottom lip trembling automatically. He always hurts me worse when I don't cry. He sees not crying as an act of defiance.

"It's okay, this once." He says, "I just worry about you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

The guard tells us that our time is up and says that we can hug goodbye if we want. I am hesitant, but Derek pulls me to him, and I automatically hug him back, knowing that he is too close, the guard too far away to stop him if he decided to hurt me. My entire body goes stiff. I try to force myself to breathe so I don't pass out on the filthy floor of the jail. I try to make things look natural. He kisses me, and then puts his mouth close to my ear, and before letting me go says just a little bit too loudly…

"You know I just want what's best for you. I only hit you because I love you."