A/N -Thank you, thank you, for all the comments and guesses. So here's a new chapter (and I kind of like it): I made my 24-hour cutoff; let's hope these guys can do the same... (PS, I just noticed this is showing up on the site with the wrong posting time. But those of you with alerts know I made the 24-hour deadline, at least!)
there's a method to your madness like a future to your past
He's waiting just inside the glass doors – there's a light rain falling outside, as usual, but he pushes through when he sees Addison and Max approaching hand in hand. In his mind is Derek's voice, the speech Mark remembers Derek giving his residents at the start of each new class:
To succeed as a neurosurgeon, you need three things. Brains, skill, nerve. The first two are the easy ones. You can develop the skills - if you have the brains - but you need nerve to pull it off. You need nerve to succeed.
"Mark," Addison sounds slightly winded. "What's going on?"
"Hey, buddy." Mark smiles at Max. "Addison, maybe we should take him upstairs first…"
"Can you just tell me what's going on? You're making me nervous," and it seems like a strange thing to say when this entire week has been nerves, but he gets it.
"Okay." He glances at Max, then back to Addison. "So, you know how Derek's been the only one willing to operate, and no one else will take it on?"
"Of course." She looks confused, then her face brightens. "Did someone change their mind? Kovacs? Or Ginsberg?"
"Not exactly."
"So what's going - oh, my god." Addison is looking past him and Mark doesn't have to wonder why.
"Hey, Addie. It's been a long time."
"Amy. Amy?" Addison turns stunned eyes on Mark. "This is the surprise?"
"Nice to see you too," Amy says calmly. "I was waiting, but this intro or whatever it is was taking forever. Hi, kid," she nods at Max who is looking at her with interest.
Mark watches Amy's gaze travel from Addison, to Mark, to Max in his green raincoat with the little check-trimmed hood, and back to Addison again. "Wow, Addie. Hot guy, cute kids, you really did get it all…I know, one of them is sick, but-"
"I don't understand why you're here." Addison mercifully interrupts her. "Did Derek call –"
"Derek hasn't called me in a very, very long time. In fact, I might be the only person he likes less than the two of you."
"Thanks, Amy," Mark mutters. "Don't bother to censor yourself."
"You know I never do. So," and Amy pushes up the sleeves of her sweater, apparently not minding the rain. "When can we get started?"
Addison is still staring at her as raindrops beat softly on the awning outside the hospital.
"Get started? On … what?"
"Addison," Amy tilts her head. "I'm here to operate."
"You're here to … what? Amy, we need a surgeon, not a resident."
"I'm a fellow, not a resident. I'm fully qualified. And I'm good. Better than good. You know as well I do that Ginsberg only takes on the best for her fellowships."
"Ginsberg refused to touch this case," Addison protests. "She hung up on Meredith!"
"Well, then it's a good thing I was a Ginsberg fellow."
"You … quit?"
"Kind of. Or she quit me. Or I fired myself. The point is, I'm a free agent. But I'm still affiliated, don't worry." She waves an ID badge toward them. "I've kept all my privileges at Mass Gen. NatMed approved, a hundred percent. So about that surgery…"
"Are you coming inside?" A new voice cuts in.
It's Dr. Grey – Derek's wife, he has to keep reminding himself that Derek is married, he has a child, he has an entire life that Mark hasn't been allowed to be a part of – and she looks puzzled to see them all standing in the drizzly entryway, mostly – but not completely – protected by the awning. She also has a small, merry-looking boy in her arms; he giggles when she whispers something to him.
Mark watches Amy look from one person to the other like she's sizing up prey, but all she says is, "Oh my god, this place is crawling with kids."
Dr. Grey raises her eyebrows but doesn't say anything. Her little dark-haired son is distracted by the wooden train he's holding, the other hand gripping the lapel of his mother's lab coat. Mark sees Amy's eyes trail to the ID badge on that coat.
"Meredith Grey? Hi … sis." She holds out her hand. "I'm Amelia Shepherd. And that must be my newest nephew."
"Amelia…" Dr. Grey's brow creases slightly; shifting her son to one arm, she takes Amy's hand somewhat uncertainly.
"Also known as Amy. Baby sister, screwup, black sheep … I'm sure you've heard of me …?"
Mark sees Dr. Grey and Addison exchange a look. Have they... bonded? Women. He's lived with two of them for seven years and they still surprise him.
"Amy thinks she can perform Annabel's surgery," Addison cuts right to the chase, raising her eyebrows.
Dr. Grey looks from one of them to the other. "Okay, then. I had something to ask, but it seems like it's definitely not as pressing as whatever's going on here."
"No, please, go ahead." Amy gestures.
Addison is fussing over Dr. Grey's son now, admiring the little blue train in his hands as he smiles shyly. His sweet round face is part baby, part little boy – all toddler, and in his presence Max in his green raincoat carrying his own backpack suddenly seems much older. Max tugs on Mark's hand and he leans over to listen.
"Who's that baby?"
"Not a baby!" The boy in question has apparently overheard Max's none-too-subtle whisper.
"Of course not. You are clearly a very big boy," Addison agrees, smiling at him. "You want to say hi?" She holds out her arms to Max.
"Hi," Max says brightly from his higher position on his mother's hip. He's holding his stuffed dinosaur in one hand, the other propped on Addison's shoulder.
"This is Thomas," Dr. Grey smiles. Thomas buries his face in his mother's neck. "And he's a little bit shy, but since Mommy has to work today and Daddy has a … meeting … he's on the way to the Children's Museum – which thankfully opens very early. But there's an indoor playground on the same block, too. Almost all his activities are downtown - that way I get my kiss breaks. Don't tell my residents I said kiss breaks," she adds.
At the word kiss, Thomas looks up and she kisses him on the cheek.
Derek's son. Mark marvels at this small child he's never seen before, even as he feels guilty for how much time their case has already taken. Dr. Grey wouldn't normally be working today, he can tell. And just the pronunciation of meeting suggests it's with lawyers.
Derek, what have we done to you this time?
"Anyway," Dr. Grey continues. "Teri – his incredible nanny – is taking him, and we wondered if Max would like to join."
Mark sees another woman approaching them with a shoulder bag he recognizes as full of – kid stuff? Baby stuff? – and she waves.
"That's so generous of you, but we can't impose." Addison hefts Max a bit higher on her hip. His green raincoat is leaving wet patches on her trench coat, but she doesn't seem concerned.
"You're not. I think Thomas would enjoy the company. And Teri used to work for a family with two sets of twins. She's always saying Thomas makes her job too easy. Actually … it was her idea."
"Dr. Grey…" Mark starts to protest at Addison's look.
"Meredith," she corrects him. She leans her head against her son's. "This is our friend Max," she introduces as Thomas eyes him warily.
Addison steps forward slightly. Max is smiling at Thomas. "Hi, Thomas!" he says cheerfully. Mark can't help marveling at how different his children are from each other. Annabel at four would have been holding onto one of their legs in the face of strangers. She was always independent – liking to do things for herself – but wary of strangers.
Thomas studies Max for a moment, then points to the dinosaur Max is holding. "Mine?" Thomas asks hopefully.
Mark holds his breath. Max, the younger brother, has had very little experience with children smaller than he is. Most of his four years have been spent trying to take Annabel's things – mostly patient, mostly sweet Annabel – rather than defending his own.
"Here," Max hands Thomas the dinosaur, and Mark lets out a relieved breath. Thomas smiles, flashing a dimple in each round cheek.
"Sanks," Thomas says politely, turning to show his mother the dinosaur. "Look, Mama. Mine."
Mark and Addison exchange a glance as Meredith admires the dinosaur. Addison looks as nervous as Mark feels, but Max still doesn't protest.
After a moment, Thomas offers Max his little train.
"Okay?" Thomas says cheerfully. "Choo choo, okay?"
Max reaches for the train and examines it. At Addison's gentle nudge he looks up at Thomas. "Thank you."
"It's like a business transaction," Amy murmurs. "Or a diplomatic negotiation."
The boys smile at each other.
Addison glances at Mark with some uncertainty. Max has almost never been left in the care of anyone other than his beloved nanny; even their relief babysitters are usually members of Ida's family or extended friend circle. There's no way four-year-old Annabel would have considered this invitation but Max beams when Meredith mentions the Children's Museum again, wriggling to get down from his mother's arms.
And then it's settled, and Mark rests a hand on Addison's back as he watches Max trot off happily with Teri – who is warm, efficient, and seemingly has eight or ten arms – after promising on every dinosaur he has to be good and listen to Thomas's nanny.
"Adults only," Amy says with satisfaction when they've left. "Well, and me – because you're still acting like I'm thirteen trying to convince Addie to take me to get my ears pierced behind my mother's back."
"Yet another reason that woman hated me," Addison adds. "You told me you had your mother's permission."
"I was a kid then. Now I'm a surgeon. And I'm … kind of amazing."
Mark shakes his head at this. She certainly sounds like a surgeon.
"Amy," Addison says patiently. "This isn't an ear piercing trip or a fellowship… This isn't like anything you've done before."
"I know that. I saw the scans, I heard the lecture – Ginsberg had us review them as an example of a non-operable mass."
Mark feels Addison tense next to him at this.
"What else did she say?" Amy cocks her head "I think it was … surgical hubris? She likes that one."
"Amy…"
"She said there was nothing to be done surgically and … I disagreed. And Ginsberg doesn't like disagreement, so here I am. So – when can we book an OR?"
"Okay, slow down. First of all, you can't do the surgery alone. Second of all…" Addison looks around the damp sidewalk and the increasing rain across the parking lot. People keep strolling by them with looks of interest. "Can we go somewhere more … private? Or at least drier?"
They end up in a conference room, but no one sits. Addison is pacing; Mark leans against the far wall; Meredith props a hip against the table; and Amy holds court with hands on hips, looking awfully like her young self.
"I can do this," Amy says again.
Addison tips her head back in frustration and starts another lap around the room.
"No one's ever tried this approach before," Meredith reminds Amy.
"If no one ever tried something they hadn't tried before, no one would ever do anything." Amy's voice rises. "I can do this."
"No one can do it alone."
"So we can do it together."
Meredith shakes her head. "Derek's the only one who's done anything close to this before … Amelia. He's the only one with the experience. The only one with the skill set."
"Look, I know you're the brains of the operation." Amy raises her eyebrows in Meredith's direction. "You're the one who changed the med protocol. You bought us at least 48 hours."
Meredith looks uncomfortable. "That was a group-"
"No it wasn't. Take credit, be a jerk … or don't, fine, but you and I, we can do this, Meredith."
"Not without Derek. I'm sorry," Meredith is looking at Addison now. "Truly, I am."
Amelia sighs. "Has Derek seen the new scans?"
Meredith nods. "We've kept him up to date."
"But he can't be in the room." Amy purses her lips.
"No. And we've tried to explore every other option: remote, call chain …. It's not going to fly. He can't be there in real time unless something else changes. He can't even be on hospital property right now."
"Look," Mark cuts in. "We don't have to make any decisions right now. Amy, we appreciate the offer," and he tries to ignore the soft puff of breath from Addison's direction suggesting she's not that appreciative at all. "But let's slow down and think about this. Annabel seized again yesterday, so we have to wait until the window opens up again anyway. Okay?" He looks from one woman to another. Amy looks determined, Meredith somewhat wary, and Addison somewhere between confused and annoyed.
Addison's the first one to speak. "I'm going to go check on Annabel. Just … don't do anything crazy until I get back. Mark," all she does is lift her chin slightly but he gets the message, and he steps outside the conference room with her.
"This is actually insane," she says as soon as he closes the door. "You realize this. Actually insane."
"Is it any more insane than Derek doing a surgery no one else thinks is possible?"
"It's a lot more insane. Derek is a world-class surgeon, Amy is barely out of medical school!"
"I was as surprised as you were to see her, Addie, but she's fully qualified. She's a fellow. And she seems to have an appropriately-sized neuro ego, so…"
This makes her smile slightly. "She doesn't have the necessary skills, even if she has the nerve. And she's trying to push Meredith into helping her when she doesn't have the skills either."
"I think Meredith can stand up for herself," Mark reminds her.
"She's the one who changed the med protocol," Addison says thoughtfully. "She knows the most, about all of this."
"So we don't need to close the option off entirely. Amy thinks she can do it," Mark offers tentatively.
Addison releases an exasperated breath. "Yeah, Amy also thought she could drive an antique manual transmission when she'd never so much as turned an ignition before. And look how that turned out."
For a minute they're both quiet, remembering.
"I'm finished with her this time," Derek snaps. His shoes squeak as he spins on his heel on the linoleum floor. "Finished!"
"You don't mean that." Addison's voice trembles; she's twisting her hands nervously. "You can't finish with people, Derek, she's your sister."
"She's killing herself. And I'm tired of watching." Derek's pacing, still hasn't taken off his coat, hasn't even drunk the coffee Mark procured for all of them.
Addison looks imploringly at Mark, so he takes a try.
"Derek …look, the important thing is that she's okay. Right?"
"Amy is far from okay." Derek pronounces his sister's name like it tastes bad. He stops pacing, brushes off his jacket, looking determined. "Let's go, Addie. We're leaving."
"But I want to see her when she wakes up." Addison looks torn, still resting a knee on the orange plastic chair in the hospital's waiting room, one of her hands reaching out to Derek.
"Fine," he says shortly. "Stay with Mark, then. And, Addison?"
She looks up at him. "Get the house keys back from Amy before you leave."
"You used to be the one who believed in her," Mark says finally. He remembers too well Derek's expression when Amy said she was applying to medical school.
"It's not that I don't believe in her," Addison says quietly. "But it's Annabel, Mark, and it's a surgical technique no one has used before. I don't think Amy can pull this one off on pure nerve."
"Okay, so Amy has the nerve, Meredith has the brains, and Derek has the skill?"
They exchange a meaningful look.
"Maybe what we need…"
"…is all three of them."
"So we're back to square one," Mark exhales. "Because we don't have him."
"I still think we can think of something. There has to be some way, some loophole, some … something. Let me go see Bel." Addison looks at her watch. "But I'm not going to stop trying to find a way to get him in there."
Mark nods. "You work on him, and I'll work on her."
When he goes back in the room Meredith and Amy seem to be … catching up.
"I haven't met that many of Derek's – your – family."
Amy shrugs. "I don't exactly go to the reunions myself."
"Nancy visited, a long time ago. She was – "
And Meredith says interesting just as Amy says bitchy?
Meredith seems to be suppressing a smile.
"I haven't seen any of them in a while," Amy admits. "The perils of addiction," she adds casually and Mark sees Meredith's eyes widen as she takes the words in.
"She's recovered," Mark says hastily. "For years."
"No one's ever actually recovered, Mark," Amy corrects.
Mark frowns. "Anyone who wants to cut into my daughter's skull is recovered, Amy."
"I'm in recovery," Amy corrects. "No drugs."
"I might need some drugs just to have this conversation," Meredith says weakly.
Amy looks her sister-in-law up and down appraisingly. "You know, Addie was my favorite sister for a long time. The blood ones aren't so great. But you might just be moving up the line, Meredith."
Mark's phone buzzes.
He's smiling as he turns the corner of Annabel's room, hoping she's still as alert as when Addison texted. Addison is at her bedside with a wide smile.
"Looks who's awake," she says quietly.
Annabel's blue eyes are open, she looks sleepy but more alert than he's seen her look in a while.
"They're lifting some of the sedation," Addison says quietly to him. "Just testing her strength. So we're stretching her," and she smiles at Annabel now. "Just like ballet class."
Mark watches her move their daughter's arms gently, then lower the blanket to move her legs. Annabel is watching him quietly.
"Hey." He takes the chair opposite and smooths her dark hair off her forehead. "It's good to see you up."
"I'm tired," she whispers. She looks from one parent to the other. "Where's Max?"
"He'll be back soon."
"Am I … still sick?" Annabel asks tremulously and Mark feels it like a punch to the stomach.
"We're going to get you better as soon as we can." Addison's voice is so strong, so certain, Mark can't believe it's the same person from the conference room with Meredith and Amy.
Mark reaches for Annabel's leg, moving it gently. "We used to do this when you were a baby," he tells his daughter. "Your mom said it would help you develop strong muscles and she said she was the baby doctor so I had to listen to her. So we would do this. Like riding a bike," and he bends one knee carefully, then the other. "And it must have worked because look how strong you are." He doesn't let his voice shake. He can't. "The fastest thing on skates."
Annabel's eyes are drifting shut but she smiles at that, a sleepy half smile.
"My skates," she says softly. She doesn't finish the sentence.
"We're going to skate soon," Addison says. "All four of us."
After Annabel drifts off again, and they tuck her in, Mark and Addison conference outside her door. They exchange a look with no words, Mark reliving the promises he made at Annabel's bedside and knowing his wife is doing the same thing.
"Nerve, and brains," Mark repeats quietly. "And Derek on standby."
"I don't know." Addison bites her lip.
"We're the ones who never gave up on Amy," Mark reminds her. "And now she's here, and she wants to help us."
"Derek didn't give up on us either." Addison gives him a sad smile. "He hasn't given up on Annabel. And I'm not giving up on him. We need all three of them, Mark."
"Derek's not allowed on hospital property," Mark reminds her. This time when they exchange a glance his eyes widen, because he knows exactly what she's thinking.
And that's how he finds himself in a scene he never could have pictured. One that, if someone had suggested it a week ago, he would have called them insane.
Seated around the large table in the middle of the living area of the Sloans' hotel suite: Amy, hair tied up with a pen stuck in it, watching a surgery on one of the screens; Meredith, wearing glasses and frowning at a lab report; and Derek, staring at one of the scans and jotting something on a pad. There are three laptops open on the table, a stack of books, multiple notebooks, a series of neurosurgical instruments, and, in the center of the table, a rather ghoulish-looking neuroanatomy model. A portable lightboard rests on an easel next to them. The three surgeons are frowning and debating in turn, sometimes in low voices, sometimes raised, debating the finer points of the technique.
And that's not all. In the children's bedroom off the living room, Max and Thomas are sitting on the soft blue carpet in pajamas, surrounded by the ubiquitous wooden train tracks, Thomas holding a sippy cup of milk in one hand. Conductor Bob is playing on loop on the portable DVD player in front of them, which Mark hopes will drown out some of the more graphic discussions coming from the living room.
And Mark is seated in the chair he's pulled to the threshold, half an eye on the boys as they play and half an eye on the unlikely trio of neurosurgeons. In his lap is a thick binder of NatMed regulations he's reviewing for any loophole that might help them. He catches snatches of conversation from both rooms, along with Conductor Bob's singing.
…but if we approach from the anterior…
…punch your ticket, punch your ticket, train's about to leave…
…maybe it's not four; it's six, but what if we…
…do the circle one, Thomas, it fits better…
…posterior is less likely to trigger a bleed, but then you have…
…punch your ticket, punch your ticket, no time for delay!
He checks his watch, reminds himself to breathe. They've been working for what feels like an eternity, inching closer to the twenty-four-hour mark. The surgical window.
His phone rings. A ring, not a text. His heart thuds.
"Addie?"
"She had another seizure." Her voice is calm, tearless.
"Okay." He breathes into the phone. "Okay."
Amy looks over at him and he nods; he sees Amy talking to the other two.
"Tell Meredith that Foster is running the labs now. I'll bring the new scans when I come back. One more set of images," she says, and it's killing him not to be able to hold her, not to be together, when he hears the tremor in her voice.
"Twenty-four hours until the next window," she murmurs before she hangs up.
"Twenty-four hours," Mark repeats.
"Twenty-four hours." Derek nods.
"Fresh scans, more information." Meredith's eyes are sympathetic.
"The more we know, the more we can do." Amy looks determined. She fiddles with the laptop in front of her. "Ooh, that's beautiful, Derek." He leans over to look. "Run that in slow-mo so I can repeat it."
"Amy," Mark says weakly, because even though Addison knows they're all meeting here, even though she's ready to think about it, she still seems far from letting Derek's baby sister cut into their baby.
Amy meets his gaze and she doesn't look like the seven-year-old with scabby knees, the wild teenager who crashed Derek's car, or even the silent, guilt-ridden young adult who spent years atoning in a library.
She looks like a surgeon.
Mark glances from Amy to Meredith to Derek. Nerve, brains, skill.
"Twenty-four hours," Amy echoes.
"I still can't be in the OR." Derek's eyes are focused on the scan in front of him.
"But we can," Meredith says quietly, and Mark watches a slow smile spread across Amy's face.
"Twenty-four hours?" Amy's looking at Meredith now.
"Twenty-four hours," Meredith confirms. Mark sees her place one small hand on Derek's and then watches as his former best friend's mouth quirks into something almost like a smile.
It's just a moment, and then the three of them return to fiercely debating anterior versus posterior approaches.
Nerve, brains, skill.
Twenty-four hours.
TBC... okay, I admit, I love the brain trust hotel room meeting. All of you who guessed Amelia are way too good. Bear in mind I plotted this story five years ago, before Amelia was on Grey's, so it might have been more ... surprising then? Anyone watch Private Practice? Amelia's first appearance on PP was as Ginsberg's fellow, and then she quit/got fired when she decided to operate on a pregnant woman in a coma against Ginsberg's wishes. Oh, Amelia. Never change. Next time: nerve and brains are on board, but is there anything they can do in the next 24 hours to get all three of them into the room?
Title lyric from Cowboy Mouth's So Sad About Me