A/N (07/30/15): Hello friends! As hard as it is to believe, it's been about two and a half years since I last updated one of my stories. My sincere apologies to all of my loyal readers for essentially dropping off the face of the earth, and thank you to everyone who kept reading, reviewing, and messaging me while I was lost in "real life", whatever that is!

I am working my way through this story, tweaking it slightly to take it in a direction that will better bring it to the conclusion I always intended it to reach. I'll be posting the updated versions of the existing chapters in batches until it's all caught up and we get back into new material. Most of the changes are minor in the first 15 or so chapters, but there are a few slightly more substantial changes in the later chapters of this new version. So even if you've read the story before, I encourage you to start at the beginning and work your way forward - I'll date all the updated chapters as they go up, so that it is clear what has been updated. Thank you all for your patience!

"Dr. Shepherd, are you alright?" Jessica jumped up from her chair when she saw him approaching. "Oh God, that's quite the shiner…"

"Thank you, Jessica. I'm fine," Derek grumbled as he walked past his assistant into his office.

"Well, I hope you don't mind, I did take the liberty of clearing your schedule for the rest of the day." Jessica followed Derek into his office, standing just inside the doorway while he took a seat behind his desk.

"Why would you do that? I told you, Jessica, I'm fine."

"Right, yes, I got that. It's just…you had a two o'clock with Jeffrey Meyers and a four o'clock with Madeline Archer."

"And…?"

"And I didn't think you wanted to meet with the chairman of the board of trustees and then the hospital's fourth largest private donor looking like you'd just come from a bar fight."

"I also don't want to look like I'm blowing those people off, Jessica."

"Of course, sir. But who could possibly be upset with a cancelation when you've just rushed into surgery to evacuate a subdural hematoma from a six year old girl who was in a tragic car accident late last night?"

Derek frowned and considered the sincere look on Jessica's face. "That's not bad, actually. You don't lie to me like that, do you?"

"Never, sir. Not a chance."

Derek nodded skeptically. "So I don't have anything else on my schedule this afternoon?"

"Not a thing."

"Good." Derek stood up and reached to the side of his desk for his briefcase. "In that case, I am going to do something I'm not sure I've ever done before – I'm going to go home early and take a nap."

"Oh, you can't do that, sir."

"Why not?"

"Dr. Montgomery called about five minutes ago and told me not to let you leave. She said she'd be up here to see you in a few minutes."

"Fine." Derek sighed and sat back down at his desk. "Send her in when she gets here."

"May I be candid, sir?"

"You usually are, Jessica."

"Right. Well, she sounded a little bit pissed off, sir."

"More than a little, actually."

Jessica gulped and turned around to find herself face to face with Addison Montgomery. "Oh, um, Dr. Montgomery…I didn't realize you were there, ma'am…"

"Clearly." Addison arched an eyebrow at Derek's young assistant and stepped back, leaving a clear path toward the door.

"Right, well, I'll be out at my desk if you need me, Dr. Shepherd…" Jessica nodded at Addison and made a beeline for the door, nearly slamming it behind her in her haste to get out of the room

"Addison, you scared my assistant."

"She'll live." Addison took a few more steps into Derek's office and took a seat across the desk from him.

"Okay," Derek said hesitantly. "Something on your mind, Addison?"

"How's your face?"

"It hurts."

"Good."

"Good? I hope you had Mark Sloan escorted off the premises in handcuffs before you came up here with that attitude."

"I saw him leave, yes."

"After you called the police and informed them that I'll be pressing charges, I hope."

"I did no such thing, and you will not be pressing charges." Addison crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Derek.

"Why not?"

"Because while I don't condone violence, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing if I'd been in Mark's position. To put it nicely, you're a grade-A idiot, Derek."

"You're mad at me? May I remind you that I'm not the one running around the hospital punching people, and the last time I saw Mark Sloan, he was in my bed with my wife, so I'm not really following how he could possibly have any reason to be angry at me."

"Gee, I don't know, maybe because he's spent the last twenty-two years watching over the daughter you turned your back on, and then when you're finally given the chance to make up for it, you refuse to even acknowledge her?"

"Did you hit your head? Are you feeling alright?"

"Derek, I know about Meredith."

"I thought we went over this last week at breakfast, Addison. I do not want to talk to you about Meredith."

"And your daughters? Do you want to talk about them?"

"I think maybe you need an MRI, Addison."

"For God's sake, Derek, this is not a joke! Your daughter did come to see you last week, didn't she?"

"No. Last week, I got a visit from some crazy girl who I'd never seen before who claimed that my name was on her birth certificate, but she was not my daughter, Addison. I don't have a daughter."

"According to Mark, you've got two of them."

"Then Mark's crazy too, because she told me when she was born, and I know how to count backwards to get date of conception. That girl was conceived before I found you and Mark together, and in case you've forgotten the order of things, you cheated first."

"How far did you count back?"

"Forty weeks. I'm a doctor, Addison, I know the gestation of a human pregnancy."

"And what would it mean if I told you that your visitor and her twin sister were born at a gestational age of twenty-eight weeks?"

Derek frowned and thought for a moment. "That doesn't change anything, Addison. I do not have children."

"Derek, don't play dumb. I know all about Meredith and the twins. I have no idea what the hell possessed you to tell that poor woman that those babies were a mistake, but I know about it."

Addison watched curiously as Derek's expression clouded, but with something more akin to confusion than the anger she had expected.

"You don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Not even an inkling."

"Oh my God," Addison muttered, covering her mouth with one hand and shaking her head.

"Maybe you'd care to let me in on what's going here?"

"After we left Seattle, did you ever hear from Meredith? A phone call, maybe a letter?"

"Actually yes, she called my cell maybe a dozen times," Derek admitted. "I never picked up, and she never said much in her messages. Just asked me to call her back, which I never did."

"What about a letter?"

"She sent three letters to the brownstone. Two were waiting when we got back at Christmas, the other came a few weeks later. Why?"

"Did you write back?"

"Only once. I made you a promise that I would focus on our marriage and make it a priority in my life, and I couldn't that with thoughts of Meredith constantly at the back of mind. I asked her not to contact me again."

"Did you read her letters, Derek?"

"No," Derek said. "I sent her one letter that very clearly told her I needed space to work on our marriage, and she must have respected that, because I never got another letter from her. Why? Was there something important in those letters?"

"Was there…? Oh my God, yes," Addison sighed in disbelief. "Derek, she was pregnant."

"What?"

"She wasn't writing because she wanted to break up our marriage, Derek, she was trying to tell you that you were going to be a father."

"Are you telling me that girl actually was my daughter?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Derek."

Derek leaned back in his chair in disbelief. "How could Meredith hide that from me? It's not as though I was hard to find. We're both neurosurgeons, we've even been at the same conferences a few times. She couldn't find five minutes to pull me aside and tell me?"

"Whatever you said in that letter you sent her, she thought you'd read hers and knew about the girls. She thought that you knew and didn't want anything to do with her children. What reason would she have to try to talk to you when in her mind, you'd already rejected her, and your children?"

"My children," Derek repeated quietly. "Oh my God, Addison. I have children."

"That does seem to be the case, yeah."

"What do I do now?"

"Right this second, I'm going to suggest you go home, take that nap you were mumbling about earlier, and maybe call your mother for a change," Addison said. "I'll talk to Mark."

"I don't want Mark Sloan having any to do with this."

Addison shook her head. "I don't think you really have a choice, Derek," she said. "He knows your daughters better than you do, so if anyone will know what you should do, he will. Whatever issues you have with him, you're going to have to save those for another time."

"He didn't know."

Mark looked up from his single malt scotch as Addison slipped into his booth at the bar.

"I thought you were done defending him, Addie."

"Just think about the letter, Mark," Addison said. "What exactly did he say about the babies?"

Mark sighed and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a frayed piece of yellowing paper and tossing it across the table. With a shrug, he picked up his glass. "Read it yourself."

Addison picked up the paper and frowned. "How did you…?"

"Meredith left it with me that day she came to my office. She told me to just throw it away, she didn't want any reminders of him."

"But you kept it?"

"Obviously."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe I guessed that twenty-two years later, I'd be sitting here showing it to you."

"Sarcasm is not necessary, Mark."

"Then just read the letter, Addie."

Addison sighed and opened the folded paper, glancing across the table at Mark before looking down and seeing Derek's familiar handwriting…

Dear Meredith,

Your last letter came in the mail three days ago. I thought that maybe with enough time, if you didn't hear from me, you would get the message and stop your attempts to contact me. I wish you had done that, because writing this letter is not easy for me at all. I don't say this to be mean, but I have to be honest.

There will always be a connection between us, Meredith, and what I felt for you was real, please know that. But I have an obligation to my wife and to my marriage, one that has to override anything that came of the few weeks we spent together.

When we met, I was going through a difficult time. My marriage had just been attacked in a way I never thought possible. I was drowning, and I didn't know how to get back to the surface. Meeting you was like coming up for fresh air, and for that I should thank you.

But I've been married for eleven years, Meredith. My wife, she's my family. I can't just walk away from that, not without doing everything in my power to save it. In that respect, leaving New York was a mistake. You were a mistake. Our relationship – and everything that has come from it – was a mistake. I have to leave these mistakes behind me, Meredith. I cannot have reminders of our relationship hanging around while I'm trying to fall back in love with my wife.

I'm sorry for all the trouble I've put you through, and I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your residency. You are going to be a remarkable surgeon some day.

Sincerely,

Derek

Addison put the letter down and stared at Mark. "Trying to fall back in love with me?"

"Hey, don't look at me," Mark said defensively. "I didn't write it."

"I don't see where in here he mentions the twins, though."

"Our relationship – and everything that has come from it – was a mistake," Mark quoted. "The girls, of course, being the everything that came from that relationship."

"Okay, I can see how that would sound bad if I were in Meredith's shoes. But Mark, if you were reading this letter without knowing about the girls, would you think there were children involved?"

"That's a ridiculous question, Addison. I know there are children involved."

"But he doesn't ever mention them specifically, Mark. Will you at least consider the possibility that he didn't know?"

"What are you saying? That Meredith didn't tell him?"

"No, but what if she told him and he didn't listen? Mark, he deleted her voicemails, and he swears he never opened her letters."

"Give me that." Mark reached out his hand and took the letter from Addison, skimming it before letting out a low whistle and shaking his head. "Well I'll be damned…"

"So how do we do this?"

"Do what?"

"Help Derek reunite with his daughters, of course. Do you think he should fly out there this week? Or at least call them?"

Mark sighed and set the letter down on the table again, shaking his head at the hopeful optimism in Addison's voice.

"It doesn't work like that, Addie," he said. "This doesn't change things."

"What are you talking about? This changes everything, Mark."

"It certainly doesn't change the hell that Meredith went through as a single parent, and it doesn't get him back everything he missed. Those girls aren't girls anymore, Addison, they're twenty-two year old young women, and he didn't just miss soccer games or piano recitals, he missed Evelyn's college graduation and Annie's wedding and the birth of a grandchild, and whether he opened those letters or not, that's no one's fault but his own." Mark stood up and tossed a few bills on the table. "Look, I get that you think you can help, but you're only thinking about Derek. I'm thinking about Meredith and the girls…I'm thinking about my family, and after everything they've been through this past year, I don't see how him coming into their lives now could do anything but hurt them, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let anyone do that."