Sadie knew when she shouldn't be speaking.

It was a knowledge few children her age—or adults, for that matter—had the ability to acquire and even fewer had the ability to then implement.

As she sat in the back seat of her father's Range Rover, hands folded on her lap, watching her parents play subtly hostile verbal tennis in the front seat, she knew this to be one time when her talking would not be a good idea.

So she pressed her lips together and ticked her eyes back and forth, as if her parents' words took the form of the ball in a very close match.

"I don't understand why Savvy's is out of the question." Her mother hissed at her father.

"Because, Addison, after the week we've had, do you really want to dump her off somewhere on the night we're supposed to be together as a family?" her father demanded, flashing his pointedly meaningful eyes at her mother as they waited in the gridlocked traffic.

Sadie rolled her eyes. She hated when they spoke like she couldn't hear or understand them. She was here, able to comprehend words even if they were a little longer than the ones she used. Plus, with her parents, sometimes it wasn't even about the words. Just her mother's tone of voice and her father's expression would tell her everything she needed to know. So unless they wore masks, they might as well just give up trying to protect her.

"Because, we're about to walk into an emergency situation, which could tie us up for God knows how long! We aren't being good parents by dragging her in there to that mess!"

"Weren't you the one that said we needed to be more attentive?" Derek returned, as he glided to the left in a small open space and shot forward. Addison expelled breath harshly.

"That was different. This is not only wrong, it's not safe for her."

"Because it's an emergency situation? When I talked to Mark he said it's mostly contained because only the serious cases were going to Bellevue. She can stay in your office, and whoever gets out first can take her home." He reasoned in a voice Sadie knew her mother hated.

Which, of course, did a vague hand motion by her mother follow.

"Fine, Derek. But if it gets past midnight and neither of us is out—,"

"I will call Savvy." Derek said with a victorious smile, taking her hand in his as he glided the vehicle to the right again to merge with traffic.

Sadie sighed and looked out the window at the blur of Central Park.

Let's see how long this little ceasefire lasts.

"What's the story, Sloane?" a tall, dark haired man inquired urgently when the ambulance doors swung open at the entrance of Bellevue Hospital. Meredith read his tag. Dr. James Ianello. It sounded oddly familiar, but the sound of Mark's voice brought her back to the present.

"Late 20s, early 30s, pregnant female. Obvious facial burning, and a large hematoma on the back of her head. I felt movement in the abdomen, presumably by the fetus, but I won't be able to tell."

"It's okay, we paged Addison Shepherd and she should be here any minute." Ianello said distractedly as he gripped the descending gurney. As Meredith jumped from the ambulance with Mark's hand on her arm, she blinked.

"Did he say Addison Shepherd?" she asked. Mark frowned at her.

"Yeah, she's the head of neonatal here. Do you know her?"

"Yeah…" but she was cut off by Ianello as he scowled at her and spoke.

"Who are you?" he asked coarsely as the three of them wheeled the gurney into the emergency room.

"Meredith Grey, well, Dr. Meredith Grey."

"Do you work here, Grey?"
"No, I'm from Seattle Grace."

She didn't notice a light bulb go on in Mark's eyes.

"What the hell are you doing in my E.R., then?" Ianello snapped impatiently. She opened her mouth to speak—or stammer, really—when Mark jumped in.

"She was first on the scene, trying to help. I saw her creds in the ambulance." He lied, with an unresponsive glance as she looked at him in bewilderment. He had just put a whole lot of faith in her, and she wanted to know why.

"Okay," Ianello said begrudgingly, only because Mark was technically his superior. "Well both of you need to get some scrubs on, then, and talk to the Chief."

When he wheeled the woman out of their grip and they stood together at the entrance of the sterilized area, Meredith opened her mouth to ask the man she had met only twenty minutes ago why he was giving her an in on a very high risk case without even meeting her. Just then, she saw Miranda and another doctor burst through the door with the little boy.

"Dr. Bailey!" she shouted, and her only answer was a nod as the gurney flew by.

"Coworker?" Mark asked. Meredith raised her eyebrows.

"My boss, actually."

"Well, she will probably want an in, too. I'll see what I can do." Mark said with a shrug, and Meredith turned to him. She frowned, quizzically, and attempted to question him, but again, he spoke before she could.

"You might want to change your shoes." He said flatly, looking down at her leopard print "Manhattan" shoes as Izzie had called them. "The Chief here is a tough sell, especially with out of town doctors and crazy animal print shoes." He winked and motioned her to follow him as he headed to a locker room.

She frowned.

And they say New Yorkers are unfriendly.

Miranda Bailey had forgotten where she was, until she looked up at the questioning eyes of the resident that appeared in front of her.

She didn't recognize him, but what truly informed her of her displacement of her was the color of his scrubs. Light salmon.

After musing on that for a moment, she met his eyes.

"I'm Dr. Miranda Bailey, of Seattle Grace in Washington. I was on the scene with this patient. I'd like to help in any way possible." She said with surprising balance as she pumped oxygen into the little boy's lungs. The doctor parted his lips and then closed them again. He gave her a once over, and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think that will be possible."

Miranda squeezed her lips together angrily. She knew she didn't exactly look like a surgeon right then, but his dismissal was too immediate.

"Well, if you would just point me in the direction of his office, I'd be more than happy to find out." She returned icily, straightening.

"Really, Ms. Bailey—,"

"Dr. Bailey."

"—Right, Dr. Bailey…we've got more than enough doctors in this hospital to handle this—,"

"Dr. Bailey?" Miranda reacted instinctively to her name, mostly to avoid the condescending man in front of her. She turned to her right, and standing in the middle of the surgery floor was Addison Shepherd.

"Dr. Shepherd!" she returned, never skipping a beat, as if she worked with her every day. Addison approached the table, arranging her haphazard scrubs and surveying the scene, the broken body of the boy, Miranda, and the salmon-scrubbed doctor beside them.

"What's going on?"

"There was an accident—," Miranda began, but was cut off by the doctor.

"This woman is not cleared in this hospital, and she is working on my patient!" he asserted, though it came off much more like a whine. Addison shook her head.

"I know her, from Seattle Grace. She was a doctor of my daughter's, a very good doctor. Were you on the scene?" she asked, addressing Miranda.

"Yes. I was here for the Keller-Butler and—,"

"With all due respect, Addison, you don't have the authority to clear her. She has to stop working on my patient!" he protested, and Miranda took a moment to regard him with disgust. He was practically stomping his foot.

"James, she is not putting this child in any more danger by giving him oxygen, so the urgency in your voice is unnecessary. As for my authority, or lack thereof, you're correct, partly. She needs to be cleared, but not right away. We have urgent matters at hand, and I can give her temporary clearance until she gets a chance to talk to Hofstetter, which she deserves if she was first on the scene."

With that, he folded his arms.

"This is ridiculous. Why don't we just hand over our entire hospital to out of town doctors?"

"What are you talking about?" Addison demanded as she moved aside Miranda and began pressing on the abdomen of the boy.

"First Sloane, with his Dr. Grey, and then you, with her."

"Dr. Grey is in this hospital?" Miranda asked quickly, remembering suddenly the young intern she had pretty much abandoned. Ianello scoffed.

"Yes. Changing into scrubs, undoubtedly, to work with Sloane on the pregnant burn victim we have in exam 204."

Addison stepped back from the boy, smiled tightly, and glared at Ianello with her eyes.

"Perfect. I can see Dr. Grey when I go over there to answer my page. In the meantime, Dr. Bailey, if you could change into some scrubs down the hall and continue preliminaries on this patient until the assigned Dr. Shepherd arrives?"

With a flourish, Addison turned on her heel, and Miranda carefully handed over her oxygen bag to Ianello, smiling with acidity.
"I'll be back."

"Well that was incredibly scary." Meredith commented as she and Mark exited Dr. Hofstetter's office. She took an audible breath, and Mark smiled.

"Steve's not such a bad guy, really." He moved past her with a motion to follow. "He just likes to be sure. Especially when it comes to his doctors, which you just became for today at least."

Meredith tried to keep pace with his step. He was obviously a man who never slowed down, and she wondered if he just never missed a step, or if he was just going so fast that when he did, he didn't notice.

"Well I'm glad he was sure about me." She remarked, examining his profile.

"Luckily, my little fib turned out to be true. You have great creds. Seattle Grace is known, and Dr. Webber had nothing but nice things to say."

"Yeah, but your influence certainly helped." She was nearly panting when they reached the elevators and he pressed the button inward with his middle finger.

"I did what I could." He said offhandedly, smiling innocently again. She frowned.

"But why. You don't even know me. I could be a—,"

"You ran blindly into an unsecured accident scene, with no thought to your own health, to save people you didn't know." He supplied for her, leaning against the wall by the elevator and towards her somehow in one smooth motion.

"Exactly. Obviously unstable." She reasoned quickly, not liking the way his close proximity made her skin prickle. He smiled again, devilishly, and she needed for him to stop that, especially if they were going to be working together.

"Obviously unstable isn't so bad. If you didn't notice, I was right there with you."

"But still…" she protested, as the elevators began to slide open.

"But still what? I have no other ulterior motive, yet, and even if I did, you'll be leaving in a few days anyway, right Seattle?" he asked. She frowned.
"I guess."
"So why not just enjoy the fact you get to save some lives?" he implored with an eyebrow wriggle.

Because of stuff like that. "I just…I'm out of my element."

"You'll be fine, I think. You're the famous Dr. Grey."

Just as the elevators were about to shut and she was going to pursue the remark, a leather-clad arm jutted through.

"Hold on," Derek Shepherd implored. Mark reached out and helped shove the door aside.

"'Bout time you got here!" he said jokingly as Derek stepped in. Meredith's mouth fell open.

"I went as fast as I could—Meredith?" Derek stopped, halfway in the elevator.

"Hi, Dr. Shep—Derek." She finished. She shouldn't have been shocked to see him—it was New York City, he did work at Bellevue, but it was still strange. As if it couldn't get stranger, a small dark head popped in between Derek's hip and the door.

"Dad, are you going to get on, or what?" Sadie demanded. Meredith's shock dissolved into a strange warmth when she met the familiar blue-green eyes.

"Hey, Sadie!" she greeted, and the little girl wiggled past her father.
"Meredith!" she hugged Meredith's waist, and Meredith laughed. Mark watched, not the least bit surprised.

"Like I said. The famous Dr. Meredith Grey." he asked as Derek finally stepped on. Meredith looked between the men and nodded.

"I guess I am."

The salmon scrubs made her look like a peep. A life-sized marshmallow peep.

They didn't have that effect on Addison Shepherd. Miranda imagined the woman never looked anything but very, very tall and thin in anything.

Pushing the silly thoughts aside, Miranda entered the exam room where Addison was performing an ultrasound on a newly stabilized pregnant patient while two young, eager, on-looking interns peered at the screen beside her.

"It doesn't look good. This baby is coming out, soon." Addison said to no one in particular, her eyes glued to the screen. Miranda stepped beside her, enthralled in the pulsating image.

"Does…what is that…thing?" she asked hesitantly, indicating another formation beside the baby. Addison squinted.

"I don't know. He's been through a lot of trauma, so it's possible there's an obstruction. The placenta may have swelled." She cocked her head. "Though, it looks…"

"Like…a tail." Miranda supplied. Both women cocked their heads identically, staring at the image.

"Dr. Cullen, could you please take her for an MRI? I need a better view of this baby. And has my husband been paged for a neuro consult?"

"Yeah, but he's got the child in 202 as a primary patient."

"Fine, but get her in for that scan and then his consult soon as he's finished, and then I want the films as soon as possible."

When they disappeared with the gurney, Addison turned to lead Miranda out.

"My husband Derek, who you met, is apparently the assigned surgeon for the boy, and I'm sure he will find something so he can keep you involved. I've given you temporary clearance, but you can't participate in surgery until Chief Hofstetter clears you officially."

"That's fine." Miranda replied as they made it to the nurse's station and Addison handed her the file.

"These are the prelim labs, and my husband should be here any—,"

"Your husband is here, now." Derek said from behind her, knotting his scrub pants.

"Perfect. Derek, Miranda Bailey of Seattle. A transplant that will be helping you today with the boy in 202." Addison introduced formally. Derek took her hand.

"Dr. Bailey! You worked on my daughter with Dr. Burke last year."

"Yes, I did."

"Wonderful. I'm in good company."

"Where is the progeny?" Addison asked without looking at him, instead paging through the files for the appropriate one.

"She's in your office, already channel surfing."

"Good. Not as good as at Savvy's, but good." Addison said meaningfully, just as Mark and Meredith walked up.

"Grey!" Bailey greeted the intern, who had a pair of hunter green scrubs, matching the man beside her. "Where have you been?"

"I was getting clearance. I hope, I hope that's okay?" Meredith asked sheepishly, not wanting to incur any of the previous wrath.

"Of course. Who are you with?"

"She's with me." The man beside her said, holding out a hand. "Mark Sloane."

"Good. If you need me, I'll be with Dr. Shepherd."

"Okay." Meredith nodded quickly. Mark grabbed the file Addison held out and they both moved past the other three.

"Let's get a look at our patient, Dr. Grey." Mark barked.

Meredith took a breath and jogged behind them.

"They're going to run her ragged." Derek observed, turning to Miranda. "You got lucky, I'm easier to match pace with."

"I'm used to running. It's all I ever do." Miranda commented. Derek sighed as he read the bleak report so far on Johnny Doe, their anonymous boy patient.

"Well let's see if we can't help our patient to do that sometime in the future. It's a beautiful day to save lives."

"How hard is the tissue going to be to replace?" Meredith asked as Mark examined the face of the woman and she proceeded to pick bits of glass from her skin. Addison was nearby, still staring intently with confusion twisting her expressions.

"Actually, once the debris and dirt is cleansed, she should be okay, in that respect anyway. The burns are superficial, for the most part. She'll need a heavy dose of antibiotics to prevent infection." He ventured a glance at Addison. "How's baby Doe?"

"Not good." She said simply.

"What's the story?" he asked, motioning to a piece Meredith missed.

"Spinal dysraphism, severe. He was already in distress—he needs to come out now or he's not going to make it."

"Jesus. Well, I'm almost done here, and I'll give her an antibiotic drip to keep the infection from starting."

"Does Derek need you for any reason on his case?"

"Not that I know of."

"Well I need you on this one. When that baby comes out, he's going to need work fast. The growth is pressing on his abdomen."

"I'll be there." Mark assured her, with a nod at Meredith. "With Dr. Grey, too."

"Fine. I want to go in in a half hour."

"How is she, otherwise?" Meredith asked quietly, observing the anonymous woman's unconscious body.

"Well Derek said the concussion was severe, but there's no dangerous bleeding. She's stable, so we get to go in first and get the baby. Then he'll be working."

"Okay." Meredith bit her lip, feeling strangely very sorry for this young girl. After Mark had cleaned her face, her age became apparent, and Meredith figured her a little younger than herself.

"What about the man she was with?" Meredith asked, and Mark shook his head.

"He died en route."

Meredith looked again at the woman, and was about to comment when a nurse appeared in the doorway.

"Dr. Shepherd, Dr. Sloane, we've got someone in the lobby. She went with Dr. Shepherd—Derek—first and confirmed the little boy to be her grandson, the DOA male to be her son-in-law, and is then, by deduction, assuming this to be her daughter. Says her name is Amy Ryan. And she wants to see her."

"Well, she can't, right now. Amy needs to be prepped for surgery." Addison said. "I'll go talk to her, though."

After she breezed out, Meredith addressed the nurse.

"How is the little boy?"

"Neuro says he's nonresponsive." Was her clipped reply as she followed Addison.

Meredith sighed heavily and reached for bandages.

"Not pretty, is it?" Mark asked, also beginning to bandage the Amy's face. Meredith shook her head mournfully.

"Not even that. Her face is the least of her worries. How are we supposed to tell her, when she comes to, that her husband is dead, her little boy may be comatose for the rest of his life, and the baby she's delivered is horribly sick?"

Mark shrugged. "Just like that."

Meredith looked at him in appall.

"Callous much?"

"Is it going to be made any better by easing her into it? She's still a widow, mother to a coma patient and a very sick infant." Mark reasoned, never dropping a cloth as he proceeded to bandage. Meredith shook her head and went back to work.

"Still. A little sensitivity wouldn't hurt it."

"Is that the kind of bedside manner they teach out there on the West coast? Sugarcoat and delude, stat?" Mark remarked with a curl in his lip. Meredith scowled.

"Is Callous and Arrogance a core requirement at NYU med or did you just take it as an elective?"

Mark grinned, and let his eyes tick up at her.

"I inspired it."

"Let's not give up yet. I'm going to perform one more test on Danny before we send him to pediatric intensive care." Derek decided, sending the pediatric interns away. Miranda stood beside the bed of Danny Ryan, the little boy she had brought in with the paramedics.

"He's nonresponsive. Just like that." She murmured. Derek stood across from her and began hooking up the sensors for his final test.

"Not just like that. A big piece of brick hit him. The bleeding was easily controlled, but the damage is extensive."

"But he can't…I mean, you don't think he'll come out of it. You can't. I don't. I see this all the time and it's usually the same."

"That's pessimistic, Dr. Bailey. Danny has a chance. Just not right away."

They both stood beside the machine that hummed to life, and sent microwaves into Danny's body.

None of the needles jumped.

Miranda regarded Danny with a strange twist in her stomach. He had soft blonde hair that fell in clumps across his face, matted with dirt. His face was cute, rounded and he looked like a loveable troublemaker.

She imagined all it took was a smile to absolve him to his mother. Like Tuck.

Biting her lip and warding off the thoughts of her own little boy thousands of miles away, she returned her gaze to Derek.

"Nothing?"

He shook his head slowly. "Nothing."

She turned back to Danny as Derek shut off the machine, and took his hand.

"They'll clean him before they put him in the unit, won't they?" she asked softly. Derek nodded, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, they will."

"I mean, for uh, infection's sake." She tried to recover some professional dignity, but when she looked at Derek, his eyes were soft.

"It's never easy. Never, ever. Especially when you think…it could have been mine."

Miranda turned quickly.

"I don't know what you mean."

Derek removed his hand, and collected the chart.

"I'm sorry there isn't any more for us to do, here, Dr. Bailey." He hesitated before leaving. "But maybe, you could make sure he gets settled in the unit and monitor him for the next two hours, until he's stable?"

Miranda nodded.

"All right."

Addison wanted to slam the door to her office, to make sure it was closed tight enough to ward out the world snapping at her heels for just a moment.

But when she opened it and saw the sleeping form of Sadie on her couch, she eased it slowly shut, tiptoed to the couch, and sat at the end beyond her daughter's curled legs.

And cried.

Her tears were silent, her sobs completely inside of her, but as she pressed her hands into her eyes, all she saw was a kaleidoscope of Amy Ryan, her mother, her malformed baby, and then again.

This is ridiculous. She told herself finally, bringing her face up and looking at the undisturbed Sadie.

She dealt with this kind of thing all the time. It was tragic, of course, but routine.

It's the not the situation that's changed, it's you. She inwardly informed herself. She chewed on her lip and flattened her daughter's tangled skirt.

It was this way, before, too. She had never cried as much as she had been lately, except for the few months she spent pregnant with Sadie.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

What the hell am I going to do?

Just then, Derek eased the door open.

"Hey," he whispered, turning on the light. Addison tried to cover her eyes, but he was in front of her, kneeling with his hands on her knees, before she could keep the crying to herself.

"What's going on?" he asked, bringing her hands down to rest on her thighs.
"Just…this case." She tried to change the subject, sort of. "How's the boy?"

"Nonresponsive. They moved him to the peeds intensive care a half hour ago. When are you going to go in on the mother?"

"Mark is doing some last minute graft work, so probably in an hour."

"Okay. I put my name on the board for an in. If it's spinal dysraphism, I could help." He said, standing. Addison shook her head.

"It's too early for any neurosurgery. The baby is incredibly weak. I'm just having Mark remove the growth to allow for normal function." She stood too, stretching.

"Still, something might go wrong where you need me." He said, lacing his arms around her waist.

"You know what I need you to do?" she asked sweetly.

"What?"

"To take Sadie home."

"We'll both take her home, after the surgery." He resolved, kissing her lightly.

"But, Derek, I don't need you on the surgery. Nothing about it is neuro. It's strictly to get the baby out and get him stabilized. You already cleared the mother."

"But as long as Sadie is here, asleep, I might as well scrub in!" he pushed.

Addison stepped back.

"Derek, we already decided if one of us got out early, we would take her home. You're out early. You should take her home."

"Why not just wait for the surgery!"

"It could take hours before I'm okay to leave! The baby has to be stable!"

"Then let's just have Savvy come get her. She said she would."

Addison ran her hands through her hair, grabbing handfuls.

"Derek, you could just take her home."

"And what about the surgery? Spinal dysraphism is neuro."

"Yes, it is—but we're not dealing with that in this surgery. You can get your publish in a few months. You are needed more at home right now."

"I'm not the only one putting work—and vanity—before family here."

"Vanity? I'm going to save this woman and her child's life! What do you want me to do? Tell her family I have to let her and her baby die a slow suffocating death because my daughter has to go home and my husband can't take her?"

"She could go to Savvy's!"

"Savvy is not her parent, Derek, we are! I am, and you are, too, despite how you act sometimes."
"I'm not her mother."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Addison asked, her voice a very low growl. Had they not been in the room with Sadie sleeping, it would have been much, much loud.

"Because, you're her mother. You're her mother, and mothers…" Derek cut himself off immediately, but not soon enough to recover.

"Mothers what Derek?" Addison pressed, her eyes on fire.

"Nothing, Addison." Derek put a hand up and dropped his head.

"No, obviously you had some greater idea of what mothers should do that I'm not doing, so please, enlighten me to my failings." She demanded, not noticing Sadie stirring.

"You know that's not what I meant." He returned, matching her defensive stance.

"No, Derek, I think that was exactly what you really meant. You think I shouldn't…do this."

"Addison, what the hell are you talking about? You're taking this too far." Derek shouted.

"Am I?" Addison snapped, "Or are you just unable to admit that you feel that way?"

"I never said that."

"No. You don't have to."

"STOP IT!"

Both of them turned, horrified, at Sadie on the couch, her eyes streaming with tears. Derek looked at Addison with an expression that could have vaporized steel. She pressed her hand to her forehead, and moved towards her daughter.

"Don't pretend like you weren't fighting. I know you were. I'm not stupid."

"We're sorry, baby. You shouldn't have heard that." Derek murmured softly.

"Why? It was about me, wasn't it?"

"No, not really…"

"Don't lie about it, Mom. I always hear you. It's always about me." Sadie implored her, turning her tear stained eyes at Addison. "I'm sorry I make you guys fight."

Addison wrapped her arms around her daughter and fought the pressing urge to cry.

"It's—it's not you, honey. It's…us." She clung to her daughter as Derek sat down on the other side of the couch.

"We fight about our stuff, Sadie. Not you. We both love you, more than anything. It's just hard." He rubbed her back lightly.

Addison closed her eyes as she held her crying daughter and listened to her husband's comforting words. How much longer could this go on? Did she and Derek have it in them for another round?

What the hell am I going to do?

"I…I have to go." She eased Sadie from her arms. "Are you all right, honey?"

Sadie nodded, and swiped at her eyes.

"I'll stay with her for a while." Derek said, his meaning obvious—he was staying for the surgery. And she couldn't very well argue about it anymore.

But as Addison walked out the door to go for the surgery, she thought not about her husband, or daughter, but about whether or not she herself could do this much longer.

Well there it is. A HUGE chapter. But I'm finding it's hard to break this story up, so I just ended it after 10 pages. Luckily, there's another chapter about halfway done that was originally part of this chapter but, well, I decided to have pity on my loyal readers. Essentially- more to come, soon. Hopefully you're enjoying, and sticking with me as I try to find my way through this. Much love for all who are!

Until next time…