A/N - Fun fact: There is an inside-joke reference to my husband in this chapter.

You'll see a number of "It's a Wonderful Life" references in this chapter. Please remember, I own nothing.

Chapter 8 – The Fallout

The doorman eyed Christian warily. "Can I call a taxi for you? It appears you may have the wrong building," he offered diplomatically. Christian suspected, given his current state, that Johnson was likely considering calling the police as a more appropriate action.

Christian shook his head. "No. I'm going. Thanks."

Christian stumbled away, disoriented.

This is impossible. I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming.

The cold rain and the biting wind felt all too real, however.

Christian pondered all he had seen, stupefied. Was it true? Had his existence been erased? Impossible! And yet...bile rose in his throat as he looked down at himself. Cautiously opening the top two buttons of his shirt, he examined his chest. Save for the sparse patch of chest hair, there wasn't a mark.

"Holy shit." He breathed. At first he marvelled at the missing reminders of his tragic past, but that soon gave way to dread,andthe meaning of their absence washed over him.

I need to see someone. I need to talk to someone. This is all some sort of... nightmare? Hallucination?

He wasn't sure what was going on, but immediately thought of someone he could find. Cold, exhausted, Christian broke into a run.

Upon arrival at the hospital, Christian flagged the attention of a clerk in admitting.

"Please. I need to speak with Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey. Is she working today?"

The woman's brow furrowed. "I haven't heard of a doctor by that name, but it's a big hospital. I could check around."

"Please, it's important. She works in pediatrics!" he called after her as she entered a few keystrokes on her computer.

"I'm sorry, sir, there is no doctor here by that name."

Christian growled in frustration, trying to keep calm, though his panicked temper threatened to spin out of control .

"Are you sure? Could you check again? Her name is Grace Trevelyan-Grey. She's worked at this hospital for years!"

A woman next to him placed a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. Did you say you were looking for Grace Trevelyan?"

"Yes!" Christian grasped her hand. "Do you know her?"

She nodded. "She's not a doctor, but she's a volunteer on the pediatric ward. I was just up there, and as it turns out, she's working there today."

Christian turned to the admissions clerk. "Is there any way you could page her?"

"Let me check. If she's there, you could just head on up." A few moments later after she hung up the phone, she gave him a thumbs-up. "Third floor."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" He beamed at the woman who gave him the information and the admissions clerk, and headed for the elevator.

Mom will be able to clear this up.

Upon arrival at the third floor, he spotted her. Grace leaned against the counter chatting amiably with the nurses. As he approached the desk, she turned to him. When she spotted Christian, her face registered no emotion; not even a flicker of recognition. She looked so sad, and tired, and so much older than her years. Christian swallowed, his stomach giving another sickening lurch.

"Mom?" Christian whispered.

Confusion clouded over her face.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Crushed, the tears sprang to Christian's eyes. She doesn't know me. She doesn't know me. She doesn't know me. Fuck! "Mom, I –" He stopped himself. "Sorry, you just remind me of -" He shook his head. "Sorry, Dr. Grey."

Confusion again, but she gave him a weary smile. "I haven't been called that in many years. Well, since I stopped practising. It's just Grace Trevelyan now. Were you a patient of mine?"

Christian shook his head. "Wait. Trevelyan?"

"I returned to using my maiden name after thedivorce." She said simply.

"What?"

Grace appeared guarded. "Sorry, how did you say we knew each other?"

"Um, Elliot..." He didn't know how to finish.

"Oh, you knew him?"

Drawing a shaky breath to steady himself, he replied "Yes, but it's been, um, some time since I last saw or spoke with him. I was a few years behind Elliot in school." Not entirely untrue. Grace seemed satisfied with the answer. "I... I was hoping to see him, and remembered you worked here. I figured you might know where I could find him."

Grace sighed. "Elliot... well, I'm not sure how much you know of his current situation. He's still in Snohomish County. Not up for parole for a few years yet."

Christian's mouth dropped open.

"Oh, did you not know he's been incarcerated again?"

Christian shook his head. Again?

Grace nodded sadly.

"He seemed... troubled when I last saw him." Christian ventured, recalling what he had seen with the angel.

"After that big blow-up at school with his brother in Junior year that got him expelled, he's been in and out of prison and rehab. Oh, I guess you would know my other son too."

"Jack." Christian shuddered to think of anyone but himself as her other son.

"Yes."

"I didn't know him as well as Elliot." Also true. "He's... doing well I understand?"

"Yes, he's been quite successful with his business, but we don't see him often."

"And Mia?"

Grace's face fell. "Oh, did you know Mia too?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, no one has seen or heard from Mia. She ran away about seven years ago."

Christian's heart pounded. "Why?"

"No one knows why. She just left one day."

I know why.

"I'm so sorry. I couldn't imagine." Recalling the horror of discovering what Jack had done to her sent a shiver up his spine. Poor Mia.He hung his head, unable to fathom the difference in their lives now. A life where Elliot was a convict, in and out of trouble with the law; where Mia chose to run away from her family to avoid abuse and molestation by her own brother; where Jack was the successful son… and then, Grace and Carrick – who were divorced? How? When? Why? And Ana, his sweet love, tortured and raped, made pregnant by that monster. He shook his head, unable to fathom it all.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Christian."

Grace thought for a moment. "It's not ringing any bells, I'm really sorry I don't remember you."

Christian hung his head. The sadness overwhelmed him suddenly. He remembered a time when she would gaze upon him fondly, even when he wouldn't talk, when he acted out, when he messed up. To have this woman; his mother, his first saviour - not even recognize him... Tears sprung to his eyes.

Grace looked impatiently at her watch. "Look, I have to get back to my work. Are you okay?"

"Honestly?" Christian shook his head. "No."

Grace shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry, I'll let you get back. Thank you for your time."

Christian took one last look at Grace before heading back to the elevators. The only person he wanted to see right then was Ana.

"Wait," he spun and Grace looked up from the desk. "I wouldn't mind seeing Jack again. I don't know where his office is though."

"He's usually quite busy. I'm not sure he'd be able to see you if you dropped in now. Do you know where his office is?"

Two birds with one stone. Why not?

"I've got a rough idea, but if you could provide me with the address, I'd be grateful."

"Okay. Here's the address. Sorry I couldn't have been more help."

"It's fine. Thank you again."

. . .

It was fortuitous that Christian got the address from Grace. Jack's office was situated in a completely different building than Christian's. Seattle's business district looked much the same. The differences, though unseen to most, were all the more significant to Christian.

Christian found himself gazing up at the office building. A towering monolith, it not only housed Jack's business operations, it also acted as a status and uber-masculine phallic symbol. Where Christian favoured clean lines and classic, understated elegance in his decorating style, Jack preferred bolder forms, modern furnishings and dark colors. As far as business styles, Christian was proud of the achievements he made in his lifetime. It had started as a bit of a game for him, but looking at his business now that he was no longer in possession of it, made him more proud of his work. Philanthropic investments made sense to him, morally and fiscally. Given the list of investments and companies Ana had listed off in her interview with Jack made him realize that they differed in the way they did business. Jack, it seemed, did not view the value of these types of ventures, preferring instead to pursue businesses that would earn him the most money and status. He wondered if the Greys still hosted a Coping Together gala in this reality. Or if the investments made to assist agriculture and farming in third world countries had been moved forward by someone else in his absence. He was sure that if he hadn't, someone else would have. Yet it was the differences in personal and family impact that he was keenly aware of.

He pressed the button for the top floor. The receptionist greeted him with an efficient smile.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Jack Grey."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I only need to see him for a few minutes."

"I'm sorry, sir, Mister Grey does not see anyone without an appointment. And, as it is, he is not currently in the office at the moment."

Fucker.

"What is your meeting regarding? Perhaps I could put you in touch with another member of Grey Enterprises personnel?"

"It's a personal matter."

"If you'd like to leave your name and number, I can pass that along to Mister Grey and he can arrange a meeting with you."

Christian ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "No. That won't be necessary. But perhaps you can help me find one more person. She's an intern, but I'm not entirely sure where she's located. Anastasia Steele?"

She looked to her computer once more. "Yes, she's in the publishing department, two floors down."

"Thank you."

It was something. And Ana was the person he most wanted to see, anyway. He stepped back onto the elevator and selected the floor. He hoped she was in, and that he could somehow figure out a reason to meet with her. He didn't know what he would say, but he knew he had to at least lay eyes on her. After that... who knows.

Call it fate, luck, or destiny. As with seeing Grace, some sort of fortune or timing was on his side, for the elevator doors opened upon Ana, herself. Without giving him a second glance, she stepped onto the elevator and pressed the 'lobby' button. Christian could only stare, as he felt the electric ripple she elicited whenever she was near. Ana looked up at him surreptitiously through her lashes and bit her lower lip.

She looked the same, with the exception of the beginnings of a prominent stomach, round with child, protruding from her open cardigan. Still, she was breathtaking. The ubiquitous pregnancy glow blessed her features.

He felt instantly protective over her. Any reservations he'd had over her pregnancy evaporated upon seeing her in this state.

Tentatively, he reached to brush a strand of hair from her forehead. She shrank away from his touch and began to tremble.

"Can I help you?" she squeaked out timidly.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." Dammit. He knew she didn't know who he was. He knew this was probably very frightening, to be accosted by a seeming stranger. But he really couldn't help himself.

"Ana –" he began.

A flash of fear and confusion crossed her face.

He shook his head and took her hand. "I love you, Ana. Don't you know who I am? It's Christian. Please say you remember. Please!"

"Don't touch me!" Her voice escalated as she struggled to wrench her hand from his grasp. "Let me go!"

He drew her close in desperation. "Please don't do this to me, Ana! . Mine. I would give anything for you to know me again. I take it all back. I want nothing more than to be yours again. Please, Ana. Say you know me. Say you remember me. I need you Ana. You and our baby. Please."

Panic marred her features and she began to scream. The elevator reached the lobby at that moment and the doors opened. Once again, the stars were aligned. Returning from wherever he'd been was Jack, accompanied by a beefy member of his security detail.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"You!" Christian turned to Jack. "You sociopathic fuck!" He walked up and without any hesitation, pulled his fist back and cold-clocked him with one solid punch to the face. The security goon rushed at Christian and pinned him in a headlock.

"You sadistic son of a bitch! You fucked them all up! Mom, Dad, Elliot, Mia, Ana. I know what you've done. I hope you burn in hell you sorry sack of shit!" Christian twisted and kicked to wrench free from the body guard's grasp but was overpowered by the man raining punches on the side of his head.

"Bert," croaked Jack nasally from the floor, blood pouring from his face. "Call the police. Kick this guy's ass and then have him arrested."

The grip around Christian's neck suddenly loosened, and he broke free. Looking back, he spotted his angel in the tan overcoat grappling with the guard.

"Run, Christian!"

He scrambled to his feet and ran from the building, leaving behind the confused chaos he'd created. The guard, who had been tussling with the angel, found himself grasping nothing but fistfuls of air as his combatant suddenly disappeared.

The sound of sirens seemed to follow him. He ducked onto side streets and alleyways, winding his way back to the bridge.

Frantically, he threw himself at the railing, calling out desperately over the water, "Hey! Hey! Help me! Please! Get me back! I don't care what happens to me. Get me back to Ana. And my family And my baby. Please. I want to live again! I want to live again. Please, God, let me live again." His cries faded as he turned his back to the railing and sank to the ground, his head in his hands.

"I want to live again."

He became aware of a shadow sheltering him and a presence looming at his side as a soft voice murmured in his ear. "Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around, he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he? Always remember, Christian: no man is a failure who has family and friends. You are important. You are loved. You are needed. Your life is worthwhile."

The shadow lifted, and he felt the rain falling on him yet again. The sirens grew louder and closer, and the red and blue lights of a police car shone through the fingers covering his face.

Voices.

A different set of hands on him.

"Sir? Sir! Are you awake?"

Christian felt so tired. The cold and exhaustion overwhelmed him at last.

He grunted in protest as someone pinched and shook his shoulders.

"He's not responsive."

"Hey Ernie, any ID on him?"

The sensation of tugging and rustling as they searched his pockets.

"Here's his wallet. 'Christian Grey'. Holy shit! Christian Grey the Billionaire?"

"Radio for an ambulance. Here's his phone. I'll see if I can call someone."

"This is Officer Ernie Bailey. We have an unconscious male at the south end of the Aurora Bridge. Looks like early stages of hypothermia. He's probably been out in the elements for a while, now. Please send an ambulance ASAP."

Christian heard the crackle of a CB radio, and the first voice giving more info to the person on the other end as the other officer knelt by him.

"Sir? Can you hear me? Mr. Grey? An ambulance is on the way to take you to the hospital. I've managed to reach your wife. You're going to be okay."

The voices and background noise faded to a faint buzzing, and he was engulfed in darkness.


A/N 2 - Credit where credit is due: Christian's monologue on the bridge is taken from George Bailey's bridge monologue in It's a Wonderful Life. The angel's is paraphrased from Clarence's words in that movie as well.

Mad props to WeareJorus for editing. I owe you much rum, if I'm ever fortunate enough to meet you in person!