My Never
Epilogue

I've rewritten this epilogue several times (I've had it planned since the beginning) and this is the final version ... enjoy :)


Derek ~ The Cottage ~ 3 years, 7 months later (Christmas Eve)

He was enjoying the early morning dew of slumber in the heaping of down pillows and flannel sheets his wife had installed at the fall of the very first snowflake of an unusually cold winter. His nose was pressed against a patch of his wife's arm, flooding his nostrils with faint perfume, and he thought, bogged down in comfort as he was, that he never wanted to rise from the bed again.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Guess what?"

"Dada! Dada! It snowed!"

Two solid thumps hit the bed at lightning speed and Derek let out a groan as they collided with his buried legs and rolled over, seeking a few more instances of sleep. Devony, of course, an early riser since he'd met her, would never allow such a thing; she yanked the comforter back to reveal his tousled head of curls.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Daddy!" the seven-year-old trilled in delight. Soft obsidian waves curled around her face, which grew more flawless with each passing second. Derek was already contemplating purchasing a gun in preparation for her teenage years and hiding it in the basement.

Caden, who had just turned three, bounced up beside his sister, tangled in the fleecy plaid pajama pants Addison had purchased a little big. The boy had a head of red curls several shades darker than Addison's but much lighter than his, the perfect mix of their hair, and his eyes were a soft, stormy grey like Derek's father's had been. "Happy Cwistmash, Daddy!"

"Merry Christmas Eve, Munchkins," Derek greeted, pretending to be grumpy as he emerged from the sheets and pressed kisses to each of their foreheads. He had barely brushed Caden's abundant hair out of the way when a trail of babbles sounded from the crib near the window and a tiny red head appeared. "All your screaming woke the baby," Derek told his two other children before crossing the room to pluck his thirteen-month-old from the crib.

Caden and Devony trailed after him, their ice cold toes under long the fleece pajamas that trailed on the floor silent enough to not wake their mother.

"Does snow taste like ice cwream, Daddy?" Caden asked as he peered out the windowsill to see their large backyard blanketed in white fluff.

"Unfortunately not, Cay."

"I still want to taste it. Can Mommy wake up so we can go outside?"

Vienna babbled happily when she spotted her brother and sister, getting bubbly drool on her pink striped sleeper, and rubbing her fists in her dazzling blue eyes to banish the sleep. Derek tenderly fixed the bow in the small patch of bright crimson hair before plunking her down on the bed, deciding she could have the job of waking Addison.

"Whah time izzit? Do I have to get up?" Addison murmured as Vienna turned her back into a jungle gym, grabbing fistfuls of pink silk in her chubby little hands as she crawled and cooed in delight when she unearthed her mother's matching hair.

"Yes, you have to get up," Derek told her, amused, as he pressed kisses on the bare ridges of her spine. "We've got a busy day ahead of us."

"I think I'll sleep a little longer."

"Oh, no you don't," Derek admonished, half panicking. "Because I haven't got a clue how to do a ballet bun and you know it."

"I've showed you before a half a million rehearsals," Addison complained as she hauled herself from the bed and wobbled as Caden and Devony launched themselves at her. "Besides, you grew up with five sisters; you're practically a girl yourself."

"What does that make you, then?" Derek asked wickedly.

"Someone who was foolishly taken in by your 'McDreamy' charms."

"Hey, if I remember correctly, you married me twice," Derek pointed out as vivid images of the small ceremony of their second wedding paraded through his mind. Addison, of course, would have never gone near the small park in anything other than Vera Wang, and they were remarried just two months after she returned home so she wouldn't have to buy a maternity gown. The nuptials had been short and sweet and orchestrated by the both of them in order to reflect the promises both of them wanted to hear. Afterward, friends and family gathered for an evening reception in the park, abundant in music and strawberry champagne and paper lanterns. It had been an absolutely perfect start to the life they'd both secretly coveted.

Addison murmured something about them not having fixed her brain properly as she stumbled sleepily toward the door, one hand on Caden's bronze head and the other on Devony's. Derek ran his fingers over Vienna's tummy, releasing a trail of happy giggles as the baby flailed her fists, seeking out his perfectly styled waves. "Dada," she cooed when she caught them, and Derek felt a tug on his heart as he did every time he met her big blue eyes.

"You hungry, baby girl? Maybe Mommy will let you try some pancakes. God knows they're the only thing she can bake."

"I heard that!"

Derek smirked and followed his family downstairs, where Devony and Caden branched off toward the back door and contemplated the wet, white fluff with awed faces. Addison waddled into the kitchen and began throwing pancake ingredients on the table, he set Vienna in her favorite swing (Callie had given them several of her daughter's old things) and sifted through the mail for something to do.

Several of the letters were from the foundation Addison had begun, via her trust fund, to raise awareness about and stop sex trafficking. She and Casey, one of the other six survivors that she had met in the hospital three years ago, had started the Red Light foundation after the trial, in which some but not all of the perpetrators were convicted and jailed. Derek knew Addison was immensely proud of the project, close to as proud as he was of her. She redefined strength in ways he couldn't have fathomed before meeting her.

Derek's knuckles were bleach-white as the muscles in his hands contracted, forming fists as they always did whenever he though of the trial. It took place four months after bringing Addison home, and he would never forget watching his pregnant wife at the stand under the sadistic glances of the bastards who tortured her, trying to put into words what they'd done. But Addison kept her eyes on him the entire time, forming a channel between their separated bodies, and when he neared tears she told him, through that look alone, that he needed to take Devony and leave.

He had heeded her wishes, because, much as he wished to continue lending silent support, he knew Devony could not know the extent of what had happened to her mother, at least not at that time, and that it was his responsibility to pace the halls with her in his arms, sobbing as softly as possible into the baby blue velvet of her hoodie.

Derek was roused from his musings by Vienna's singsong calls of, "Da! Da! Pahn!" No sooner had he lifted the baby into his arms than there was a shriek from near the back door and he turned to see Caden shoulder-deep in snow. Vienna was placed on the floor, where she immediately headed for the field of white freedom outside, while Derek fished his crying son out of the clumped snowflakes and tried to keep the other two out of the snow.

Caden 'Squirt' Shepherd was born on the cool March night that he, Addie, and Devony were returning via ferry from the quaint, cute town of Bainbridge Island. The labor happened so fast, with Addison's water breaking all over her Diana Von Furstenburg wrap dress and her cursing the ruined material and the soft wind and ferries in general. She dilated so quickly he feared his son was about to be born on a boat.

"Mommy?" Devony had asked midway through a contraction while Derek persuaded a passenger to go inform the captain that they needed to dock in Seattle immediately. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, it hurts!" Addison had growled.

"Squirt is naughty already," she observed delightedly before resuming her play with her toys. "When he's born we can put him in time-out."

In the end they had raced through the ER doors just in time and by that time Addison was writhing in pain, her torso curling as she struggled to expel their son from her body. He was terrified even though it was theoretically his third child and he remembered Evelyn's pale, cold body and Addison telling him about Devony getting meningitis when she was only a few months old …

It took six hours and squeezed tears and flailing limbs and the terrible, terrible pushing that tore her skin and left her raw before his son left her body. He cut the cord, he held the baby, covered in blood and amniotic fluid and who knew what else, and placed him on Addison's chest.

Their son had a full head of hair and slate grey eyes and he was perfect even after the rough birthing process. He couldn't help sliding his fingers over the auburn curls and the little button nose and the eyelids that were shut tight in protest to the sudden brightness.

"You want to name him?" Addison breathed, so softly he wasn't sure she'd actually said it.

"What?"

"I came up with Evelyn and although I chose Devony to sound like Derek I still picked it by myself … so I want you to name him."

He hadn't told her he'd been studying baby name books with more attention than he'd given the Bible in years and maybe the names he liked tended toward traditional or overused but he still had one he thought would fit. "Caden," he replied, basking in the perfection of the scene.

"Caden?" Devony asked later. "It sounds like an egg."

"It dwoesn't tasted like ice cwream, Daddy!" Caden yelled as Derek stripped him down and swaddled him in a blanket. "It dwoesn't, it dwoesn't," the little boy continued to chant even as Addison placed warm, perfectly formed chocolate chip pancakes on his plate. Devony had managed to stay dry but was eying the snow longingly, while Vienna was much more fascinated by the dark chocolate staining her fingers.

The shrill ringing of the phone redirected Derek's intended trajectory, which was to kiss his wife senseless while she flipped the pancakes, an act that he found surprisingly sensual. Then again, Addison could probably do most anything and make it sensual. But that was beside the point.

"Hello?" Derek said lazily into the phone as he rested his chin on Addison's silk-clothed shoulder.

"Hey, Derek."

"Hey, Meredith," he whispered softly. "You did it?"

"Yup, I think we got one."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she's the runt of the litter, so she's a little small, but I think Dev will love her." Meredith was officially back with Finn, and though they hadn't had the most amicable ending possible, Derek was glad she had finally procured happiness. The plan was for Meredith's vet to find Devony a pure white husky for Christmas, an endeavor they hadn't had much luck at until today.

"Thanks, Meredith. We were getting a little worried, it being Christmas Eve and all. I'll come pick her up after the play, okay?"

"All right, Derek, see you there. Bye."

"We got one?" Addison asked while glancing at Devony to make sure the seven-year-old was occupied with wolfing down her pancakes.

"Mmm," Derek confirmed as he pulled the silk robe off her shoulder and began to kiss the faint scar still painted there. Shivers of delight assailed Addison as he rested a hand on her stomach and used the other to gently turn her chin so their lips could meet. Their mouths molded together and the kiss deepened with intensity that resulted in the collision of teeth …

"Ew! Mommy and Daddy, get a trailer!"

"Excuse me?" Derek chuckled, looking inquiringly at Devony. Although Addison had hated living in the trailer, he had discovered that doing other things was perfectly acceptable there.

"Well, Unca Mark said to say to get a room when you started doin' that, but personally I think you need a whole trailer. So go to the trailer," Devony sniffed haughtily. "I actually want to eat, you know."

"Yeah, I actuwally wants to eated," Caden echoed, though it was clear he hadn't picked up on the key points of the conversation.

"Then eat, you two," Derek instructed them. "Look at Vienna. I don't see her complaining."

"That's because she's a baby. Her brain is too small."

"Actually, Dev, our brains shrink as we get older," Derek informed his daughter before placing his lips back on Addison's. She tasted of chocolate and comfort and love so powerful it was difficult not to do more than kiss her in front of their children. But he needn't have worried because before thirty seconds had transpired, Addison caught sight of the clock over his shoulder and shrieked into his mouth.

"Shit! Shoot, I mean shoot. We're going to be late!"


~ Addison ~

"Come on, Cay, just hang it up!" Addison begged her son as Caden hovered in front of the fireplace, stocking in hand. "We've gotta go get ready, buddy."

Caden finally hung his stocking irresolutely and then flung himself into her arms. She hung him upside down; ruffled his still-soaking copper locks, and then tucked him against her hip as she hunted down his clothes.

Although the three-year-old couldn't read books as Devony could at his age, he could read music, Preston had gotten his wish about a musical genius, and although Uncle Mark was indisputably Devony's favorite, Caden had a closer relationship with 'Unca Press.'

Once small arms had been wormed into a dress shirt and legs kicked into little khakis, Addison released Caden, knowing that although he didn't spell angelic proportion (he had learned too much from Devony) his clothes would inevitably be messed up anyway by mischievous play. Caden ran straight to the piano and ran his teenie fingers over the keys, absorbing the cadence of the notes before beginning to play out of his Christmas songbook. He'd loved music from the moment she'd first felt him move and the only way to get him to sleep as a baby was when Derek played the cadaver song he'd made up so many years ago.

Derek had already gotten Vienna outfitted in a bubble-hemmed Burberry baby dress and was trying to keep the baby girl from blowing bubbles all over the red, white and beige flower pattern of the fabric. Vienna kicked and cooed whenever he wiped her chubby little chin, her sausage fingers entwined in her mop of crimson hair which was on the edge of clashing with the dress.

Addison focused in on Devony, sweeping her long ebony locks up and twisting them into a graceful ballet bun. The seven-year-old waited with uncharacteristic patience, Addison had noticed a jump in maturity ever since she had started fourth grade. Initially she'd been worried about Devony – or any child, really – skipping two grades of school, but at Seattle Preparatory they'd worked it out so Devony had some advanced academic courses but got to interact with children her own age too.

"Is everyone coming?" Devony sang as she adjusted her sparkle-doused snowflake leotard and Addison placed a tiara in front of the midnight curls. "Everyone is coming to see me be a snowflake in the Nutcracker, right?"

"They're all coming," Addison promised. Devony had gleaned a part in a prestigious performance of the Nutcracker through her ballet class (she was perfectly well-behaved when it wasn't Hannah Montana) and had been practicing the dance for months.

"Unca Mark is coming? And Aunt Callie? And Acacia?"

"Yes," Addison said patiently. Devony had refused to drop her nickname for Mark and instead adopted an appropriate one for Callie when they gpt married. Acacia Sloan arrived a mere three months after Caden and inherited her mother's inky hair and Mark's ice blue eyes.

"Grandpa and Grandma Webber? Izzie and Alex?"

"Yes, yes, and yes."

"What about Tuck? We're getting married tonight," Devony stated nonchalantly.

"What?" Derek shouted from his position by the sink, turning around so fast that he spilled water down the front of his suit. "What did you say, young lady?"

"Tuck has to come because we're getting married," Devony repeated.

"Wreally?" Caden asked, abandoning the piano. "Can I be the mwaid of honor?"

Devony shrugged, eyeing her brother speculatively. "Sure. Vienna can be the flower girl."

"Ah, gah!" Vienna screamed happily from her position on the floor.

"The maid of honor is a girl, honey," Addison told Caden.

"But it doesn't matter," Derek growled, "because there is no way you are getting married!"

"Yes I am, Daddy!"

"No, you're not!"

"Der!" Addison called warningly. "Derek!"

"What, Addison? She's not getting married!"

"No, I need you to help me with this skirt," Addison complained, hopping in front of the mirror as she tugged on the stubborn zipper.

"Adds, that's not happening," Derek chuckled, looking between the garment and Addison's expanded stomach. Behind him, Devony rehearsed her dance in the middle of her and Derek's room, slippered feet bouncing on the plush carpet as her lacy tutu swirled around her, and Caden practiced his wedding march with Vienna toddling behind him.

"Devie, maybe Santa can be in the wedding!"

"Well, you're the one who knocked me up again, so you at least have to try to get me in this skirt!" she complained. As if in agreement, the five-month-old baby inside of her squirmed and Addison winced at the sensation of an octopus writhing her stomach.

"Addie, just pick out a maternity skirt," Derek told her softly, running his lips over her neck as if to negotiate agreement. She shivered as her volatile hormones salivated at the feeling of Derek's muscled chest against the bump of the baby. He stepped back with a smirk just as she leaned forward.

"Hey! Get back here mister!"

"Not until you're dressed. We need to keep it G, remember?" he asked wickedly.

"PG might be allowable," Addison muttered as she pulled on the zipper more insistently, wanting to taste Derek's lips; it finally settled in place.

"It's time to go, Addison, the play starts at two," Derek warned her, glancing over at their silver alarm clock. "And if everyone comes over for Christmas Eve dinner tonight …"

"I want a minute," Addison pouted, making sure the children weren't getting into their Christmas presents before pressing her lips to Derek's and catching her breath as he ran his tongue lightly over her lower lip.

"You have forever, babe," Derek reminded her as he pulled back, cradling her face gently in his hands. Memories crashed down upon her, of her and Derek exploring Seattle as he said he should have done when she first arrived, of him standing beside her during her first surgery after the kidnapping, a supportive but not interfering presence, of Derek informing her he gave up Chief of Surgery to Burke although it'd been offered to him first. Derek coiled his hands over her bump and leaned forward again. "But I think we should save the unwrapping for later," he whispered before engaging her in a tantalizing joining of lips that tasted of forever.


Yes, I gave them four FHBs (well, three and one pending) and a very fluffy ending. After the hell they went through, I think they deserve it. The last part should be up in a few days.