A/N: I'm truly grateful for your feedback and to know people are enjoying this story. I'm now at 23 chapters, which means 20 chapters are new: this story is officially way more 2017 than 2012. I'm so glad I continued/restarted it, and I hope you are too!

don't turn on the lights, you can read their address by the moon

"Can Thomas sleep over?" Max asks as soon as the elevator doors close on the hotel lobby.

"Not tonight, bud. He's with his mom and dad at their house."

"They can all sleep over," Max suggests cheerfully, and Mark smiles. It's a sign of how surreal the last week and a half has been that a double-date slumber party doesn't even sound that far-fetched.

"You'll see him tomorrow, I think. You're going to hang out with him, and Ida, and Teri…"

The excitement over this carries Max through his bedtime routine; he's sleeping soundly in the big bed in Mark and Addison's room when his phone buzzes.

Addison starts talking before he can say hello. "Are you sitting down? I hope you're sitting down. My parents are divorced! Well, getting divorced, but you know what I mean."

"What?" he switches the phone to the other ear. She's talking very quickly.

"I know! I asked how Bizzy was, okay, and then he told me to sit down, and I thought he was going to tell that she died or something. And then he just said 'your mother's in Europe.' Which is pretty much the most anticlimactic news ever, but then he said that she's divorcing him!"

"Wow," he says, and she starts talking again before he can say anything else.

"Bizzy and the Captain are divorcing. It's just … weird, after so many years. They practically live separate lives anyway. What's the point of a divorce? All he said was that Bizzy asked for it, and he didn't want it but he was going along anyway. …probably because contested divorce is tacky."

"How was it seeing him?" he asks quickly, before she can start talking again.

"I can't believe Bizzy asked for a divorce." She continues as if she didn't hear his question. "I mean, I didn't know, but it has to be hot gossip in Connecticut. She'd hate that! Unless she's changed. But I doubt Bizzy's changed. Bizzy doesn't change."

"Addison," he interrupts when she pauses to take a breath. "was it okay … seeing your father?"

"Oh. Sorry. Yes. It was fine."

"Good."

"He asked about you. Well, he said 'are you still seeing that fellow with the tattoo from your medical school class?'"

"I don't have a tattoo." And they've been married for seven years, but trust the Captain to diminish it.

"That's what I said! And then he said 'really? He seems like he would have a tattoo.'"

She starts talking again before he can process this. "A divorce. I mean, it's not as if she's met someone else. Bizzy wouldn't do that. But a divorce – now they can't judge me for my divorce anymore, at least. What do you think happened? Maybe she finally had it with his … anyway. He went back to his hotel and I'm … unscathed, Mark, I saw the Captain and I'm unscathed."

Clearly. He doesn't say that out loud, of course. "Can you get some sleep now, Addie?" She sounds like she's been mainlining caffeine.

"Yes. No, I don't know. I have to think about this. I mean, it's bizarre. He told me I should talk to Bizzy."

"Are you…"

"Absolutely not."

"I talked to Bizzy." She starts crying before she tells him anything her mother said. He hands her a tissue, and then another one, rubbing her knee as she sits next to him on the couch.

"First she said I can't have your baby, it would be … unseemly." Addison blots at her eyes.

"Unseemly?"

"Unseemly," she repeats, her voice shaking. "Our child is not unseemly."

"Of course she's not." He rests his hand on her shoulder, massaging gently.

"Oh, and … she said getting caught was tacky. Not cheating, mind you, but getting caught. Never doubt that Beatrice Forbes Montgomery has priorities."

"You knew she wouldn't take it well."

"Yeah, well, she didn't. And it was worse than it sounds. You have to try to hear all of it in her voice. She's just so … cold." She shudders slightly and Mark squeezes her shoulder reassuringly.

"There's more. She also called her a drunk mistake, and said I've never had good judgment, and the Captain agrees with her about all of this. Oh, and that I'm just like my father, can't resist a pretty face no matter how much trouble it causes for everyone."

"At least she said I'm pretty?" Mark jokes, trying to get her to smile.

She does smile a little bit at that, a watery smile. "She also said you're a Lothario who's just going to move on to the next girl when I start gaining weight."

"You've already started gaining weight, and I'm not going anywhere."

"That's because it's all in my boobs right now," she sniffles.

"Addison…" he pulls her onto his lap. "It's okay."

"Careful, I might break your legs."

"I'll take my chances."

She curls so that her face is resting against his neck. He feels her tears on his skin.

"Addie, it doesn't matter what they think."

"She hasn't called me in years. I actually thought she might be … forget it."

He strokes her hair. "We don't need them."

"No, I guess we don't. At least Archie was happy for me." She deepens her voice to quote her brother: "'Good job, sis, carrying on the noble bloodline so I don't have to,' but that counts, right?" She lifts her head, and he knows her tone: she's pretending to joke but she's mostly serious.

He hugs her, pulling her close to him. "It definitely counts," he assures her.

"I don't think she's ever going to talk to me again. She's not much for besmirching the family name." She wipes tears off her cheeks. "It's not like she talked to me much before, but still." She looks down at her belly, resting her hand on the slight swell. "Some family we're bringing this baby into."

"Hey." He rests a hand over hers on her belly. "Our parents don't matter. We're bringing the baby into this family, not that one. This family. You and me. And … Bell."

"You're still calling her that." She gives him a genuine smile. "You know it's not actually a name. And don't say it's short for-"

"It's short for belly!"

She laughs. "Don't give her a complex when she's still in the womb." Glancing down, she says, "it's going to be hard enough when she comes out, with Bizzy in the back of my … " her voice trails off.

He wraps his arms around her. "You're nothing like Bizzy. And we're going to be good at this."

"You think?"

"Better than good. Great. And if all else fails, well, we can't be much worse than our own parents."

She laughs again, and then kisses him, which turns into really kissing him, which turns into a much improved evening after all.

..

"The senior panelist, Biff – Lyman Stockton, is a friend of my father's." Addison explains to Meredith. Pale morning light casts the hospital lobby in shades of blue.

"The Stocktons lived in Greenwich when I was growing up. He and my father lectured at the university together for a while, and Boots – his wife, I mean – was on all the same boards as my mother. And the Captain and Dr. Stockton used to sail with…" her voice trails off for a moment and she touches her necklace, seeming to lose her train of thought.

"Addie?" Mark prompts gently.

"Sorry. Sail with, um, with some other friends. They were very close when I was young. I didn't realize he was on NatMed's ethics committee until now. Actually, it doesn't surprise me that he's the holdout on the panel." She's quiet for a moment, remembering. "Dr. Stockton was always a stickler for rules. He was probably the only person in Connecticut who fired more help than Bizzy did. And when we were kids, he threw my brother overboard once for not clearing the halyard before he loosened the mainsheet."

Mark furrows his brow. "The parts of that story I understand are disturbing."

"Archer thought it was a riot at the time." She shrugs. "It was the seventies."

Which probably means he wasn't wearing a life jacket, either.

Mark shakes his head. "So we know this guy is a real prize."

"What's the plan for dealing with him?" Meredith asks, looking from one of them to the other.

"Dr. Stockton's plane lands later this morning. The Captain is going to meet him for a drink. And I've already found a club that has reciprocity with the Captain's in case so they can play a round of golf. And then they'll … speak WASP to each other."

"Which means…"

"…which means they drink cocktails and play golf and say how's your lovely wife and talk about the stock market but then by the time they leave they've come to a totally non-verbal agreement about something else entirely that gets us exactly what we need."

"Right." Meredith nods. "So this is all…"

"Ethical?" Addison touches her necklace again, the corner of her mouth quirking in something too tense to be a real smile. "Well, he's not testifying and we haven't given him any knowledge about the events that led up to this. It's just … two old friends from Connecticut catching up in Seattle."

"But your father flew out here specifically to-"

"-to see his only granddaughter, who's recovering from surgery."

Meredith nods slowly. "So … we have a plan."

Addison nods. "We have a plan."

"I'll call Derek."

"And I'll … oh," Addison is turned toward the doorway, where a tall man is flashing a confident smile at the security officer.

"Mark!" The Captain looks pretty much exactly how Mark remembers him, and he sounds cheerful and unaffected by the chaos of the hospital. He shakes Mark's hand in a friendly manner. "Good to see you again," he says, as if the last time they met was a garden party and not his son's funeral – at which neither he nor Bizzy directly acknowledged Mark or Addison. The Captain turns to Meredith, who's holding her phone in one hand. "And who's this … vision?"

Addison grimaces. "Um, Dr. Meredith Grey, Dr. … the Captain."

The Captain's eyes skate over Meredith as they shake hands.

"Ah. So this is-"

"One of the surgeons who saved Annabel's life."

"Right, but she's-"

"Married to Derek, yes." Addison shifts her weight in her heels. "Was there something you needed, Captain, or …." Her voice trails off.

"No," he says mildly. "I'm not meeting Biff's plane for a few hours, and you know I'm an early riser. I just thought I'd say hello."

"…hello," Addison says faintly.

The Captain turns to Meredith with a broad smile. "So you saved my granddaughter's life."

"There were three surgeons on the team," Meredith says.

"Derek's sister worked on the case too, Captain. Amy," Addison explains.

"Now, which sister is Amy? Is that the junkie or the one with the really magnificent-"

"I'll just introduce you to her later," Addison says hastily.

..

Mark drives back to the hotel to meet Derek in what they've come to know as the remote office. In his head he traces the plan, which might have felt far-fetched two weeks ago, but right now his life is … pretty far-fetched. They'll turn the remote office into command central for hearing prep: Derek's lawyer is only a few blocks away, the hospital less than ten minutes by car. And they already have a veritable library of NatMed regulations set up on the dining table, including case reports from all three panelists and notes from Addison's old friend Savvy – with the disclaimer not legal advice, this isn't my area, just some thoughts – that have already proven helpful.

"So." Derek gives him a sidelong glance once he's been updated on Annabel. "The Captain's in Seattle."

"The Captain's in Seattle," Mark repeats, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"How much time have you spent with him?" Derek asks. "Since you and Addison, I mean."

"Other than saying hello today?" Mark shakes his head. "Basically none."

Derek nods, looking like he has something else to say. For long moments, though, he's quiet.

"Is she … okay?" he asks finally.

There's no need to ask what he means. Under oath Mark would have to say he's not sure that Addison's okay. She was going a mile a minute again when he left the hospital, juggling meetings with Annabel's PT, a child psychologist, radiology, and jotting notes on her testimony. He hasn't been able to sit her down since her father arrived and really talk, and privacy for the two of them has been pretty much nonexistent since they landed in Seattle, so … no, he's not sure.

But to Derek he just nods.

"Addison, don't do this in front of Mark."

"I just don't see the issue, Derek, and you won't tell me what the issue is, so..."

"Addison." He's rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Give it a rest, please."

"I can leave," Mark offers, even though he hasn't even set his bag down yet. They're arguing in the foyer, Addison pouring a drink at the same time with fast, angry movements.

"You don't have to leave." Addison says, downing the glass. "Actually, stay. Mark, you're a reasonable person. Can you tell me why we can't go to Greenwich next Sunday? Don't tell me it's because Derek has to work. We're all freaking surgeons."

"Um." Mark glances from one of them to the other. "Look, I should probably…"

"See, Derek? Even your best friend disagrees with you."

"Just let it go, Addison. We'll talk about it later."

"Oh, but there's no time like the present, honey. I mean, I drop whatever I'm doing whenever one of your pregnant sisters has a blood pressure spike, and Bizzy never asks us to do anything for her, but when her begonias are probably going to take first place, and her chrysanthemums-"

"Addison!" He cuts her off loudly and Mark sees her flinch. "Begonias … chrysanthemums … listen to yourself! Why are you doing this? You know she makes you miserable."

"She never asks us to do anything and she asked us to do this," Addison repeats stubbornly, her voice rising into a range Mark uncharitably has to admit could be called shrill. "Why shouldn't we do it?"

"Because every time you see them, you turn into a crazy person!" Derek's yelling now and for a moment Addison looks stricken.

Then her face closes. "Well. It's good to know how you really feel."

"Addison, please." Derek rubs a weary-looking hand through his hair, his voice much quieter now, and glances at Mark. "Can we just table this for tonight? Mark doesn't need to hear it, and we should get going if we're going to make-"

"You and Mark go without me. I don't feel like going anymore."

"Addie. This place was your idea. You're the one who made the reservation and it's for three. Let's just go." He reaches out to touch her arm, but she brushes his hand away.

"Forget it." She spins on her heel and walks away.

"Addison!" Derek follows her up the stairs, throwing an apologetic look over his shoulder. Mark just stands in the foyer, feeling awkward. Voices float down from the second floor, varying in tone. Angry, then conciliatory, and finally just silence as Derek descends the stairs.

"Sorry about that." He massages the back of his neck, looking tired.

"You still want to go?" Mark asks uncertainly.

"She wants us to go."

Derek doesn't say anything else until they've walked for a while and are preparing to cross Park, yellow cabs whizzing by in the late spring air. It stays light for so long these days.

"Addison is the most normal person in that family." Derek glances at Mark after he says it, pressing the walk button on the corner with a lot more force than necessary. "That should tell you something."

"Her parents …." Derek pauses for a minute, looking toward the window as if he's seeing a memory. "They left a hole in her," he says finally. "The two of them. That … house, the whole thing. And nothing was enough to fill it. All the achievement, all the reassurance, all the professional accolades…" His voice trails off.

"It's different now," Mark says, hoping he doesn't sound defensive.

"I hope so." Derek glances at him again. "Look, I didn't handle it well, back then. It made me angry. The way they treated her, the way she changed around them, the way she would let them – so I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

He has no idea what he's getting into. Which is pretty much what his life has been since the Saturday morning Addison called him from the ER.

"We never spent any time with either of them that I didn't regret," Derek adds. "Not because of me. Because of what it did to her."

"She wanted to call him," Mark says, not sure which of them he's trying to convince. He has to trust that she knows what she can handle. If they don't have trust, what do they have? "I appreciate what you're saying. And that you're concerned. But I'm … monitoring the situation." He regrets the phrasing as soon as it leaves his mouth, since it makes Addison sound like a cross between a surgical patient and a war zone, but Derek seems satisfied.

"So the Captain's going to play golf with my executioner," Derek muses.

Mark pulls two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and tosses one to Derek. "Don't be a drama queen. He's only going to play golf with one of your executioners."

To his relief, Derek smiles.

"Look, Derek, you saved Annabel's life. I don't think Addison can live with herself if you don't get your license back, so ... yeah, the Captain's in Seattle."

..

"Annabel likes her room, and she loves the PT, and the scans looked great." Addison is reporting very quickly, a cup of coffee in one hand. "She walked with the PT, and they cleared her to walk in the ward with us. They're projecting Friday for discharge if she maintains these numbers."

Addison pauses, and they exchange a glance that requires no words: Friday is after Derek's hearing; it feels like another universe entirely.

"We should bring Max to see her. He's with Ida but I slotted him into the playroom so she can take breaks. And they'll meet up with Thomas later."

Mark nods. With Annabel improved so drastically and the terror of the last week and a half abated, it's starting to feel like their normal two-parent, two-child logistical strategizing.

"I talked to Derek," he offers, though it sounds like a lot less than she did. "He's on board with the plan."

"Oh." Addison glances at him. "Good."

"So, what do you think we-"

"The Captain wants to meet the kids," Addison cuts in.

Mark nods, not surprised.

"I can hold him off with Annabel for a while. She's recovering, fragile, but Max…."

"And you don't want to introduce them?" heß asks.

"I want to keep the Captain happy. He's meeting Dr. Stockton today."

"But you don't want Max to meet him."

"What do I say? Hey, Max, meet your grandpa, sorry I never mentioned him to you, hope you don't inherit his complete inability to…" She stops talking and presses her fingers to her lips. "Max is perfect," she says, her voice shaking.

Mark pulls her into a hug. "I know he is." He strokes her hair for a moment, thinking. "What about a compromise? He can meet Max, but don't tell Max who he is. He can just be … the Captain."

Addison draws back. "You're the one who always says we shouldn't lie to them."

"It's not a lie. It's a … sin of omission. And anyway, desperate times call for-"

"-Montgomery measures," she interrupts ruefully.

..

"You can meet Max," Addison says. "But … we're not telling him who you are. Not yet."

The Captain looks somewhat surprised, but doesn't say anything in response.

"We do it my way or not at all," she adds.

The Captain spreads his hands. "I'm a reasonable man, Addison."

"Do we have to do this?" Addison asks as they walk to the playroom, where Max is spending a happy hour reuniting with the hospital's toys until Ida comes to get him.

"No, we don't have to do this."

"I know. But we do. Okay, it's going to be fine…" if she's trying to convince herself, she doesn't sound like she means it.

"It is going to be fine. We'll say hi, the Captain sees how cute Max is, we find out your father's third-favorite dinosaur, and boom, we're done. Fine."

Addison smiles shakily. "Then do I feel like I'm about to … sell my baby to pirates?"

Mark slides an arm around her. "Max loves meeting new people."

"The Captain isn't a person. He's a… WASP."

"So are you, and you're Max's favorite."

..

"I told him to meet us here," Addison says nervously, pacing in a small ground-floor waiting room. She's holding Max protectively on her hip.

The door opens.

"Hello," he says.

Max regards him with interest. "Hi," he responds

"Max," Addison's voice shakes slightly. "This is, um, this is … the Captain."

Addison gives Mark a what are we doing here look and he cuts in to help.

"Captain, this is Max," he says quickly. "Max, you want to tell him how old you are?" he prompts. There's an uncontroversial topic of conversation.

"Four and a half," Max says cheerfully.

The Captain nods. Mark's pretty sure you could hear a pin drop in the room. Thankfully, his son pipes in a moment later.

"What are you captain of?" Max asks curiously, staring at the older man. "Do you have a plane?"

The Captain looks uncertainly at Addison, who looks at Mark. This already feels like the longest short meeting in history.

"He's not an official captain, buddy. It's kind of like a … nickname."

"Oh." Max considers this. "Why is that your nickname?" he asks the Captain.

"Because he likes sailing," Addison responds quietly.

"Sailing boats?" Max asks.

"Yes. Sailing boats." The Captain finally speaks.

"I like sailing too," Max beams. "My mommy knows how to do it."

"Yes." The Captain is studying her. "Yes, she does know how to sail."

"She's gonna teach me. When I'm bigger."

"That's good to hear." The Captain is looking at Max now, but his eyes are faraway. "I hope she does."

"Well." Addison shifts Max on her hip. "We should get him back to … um..."

The Captain nods, lips pressed together. "Right. It was … nice to meet you, Max."

"Nice to meet you," Max echoes.

..

"Can I get down and walk?" Max asks as they travel through the hallways.

"That depends. Walk like a nice, calm little boy or like a dinosaur?" Mark mock-growls against Max's face, tickling him, and he laughs.

Mark sets his son on his feet and takes his hand. "You ready to go see Annabel?"

"Yeah!" Max bounces on his toes as they walk. "In her room?"

"That's right, buddy, she's in her room and she's been missing you."

"Yeah." Max says thoughtfully. "Me too. Is she all better now?"

"She's getting better every day. And she will be all better soon, but right now she's still getting there."

"Is she still wearing that stuff?"

"She's wearing a gown – like hospital pajamas." The pediatric gowns are cheerful colors; today was bright green with white dots.

He pauses before they enter the pediatric neuro ward. There's a small visitors area just outside with padded benches and Mark is struck with the thought that he can't be the first parent to give this speech to a sibling outside the ward.

He beckons Max over, sits down, and pulls him onto his lap.

"So listen. Annabel is much better, but she's going to look a little bit different. Remember when you got hit with that soccer ball and your face got a little puffy for a few days?" He runs a finger down Max's soft cheek.

"Yeah."

"It's kind of like that. Sometimes while we're healing, things look a little different, but it means that you're getting better."

Max nods.

"Remember what we talked about before, the needle and tubes that give her medicine. She still has those. So we're going to be very gentle. She's going to be taking it easy today. Nice and slow."

"When can she play with me?"

"Well, if you play your cards right…maybe she'll play cards with you today." Mark pokes him in the ribs and he giggles. "But only quiet games for now. She still needs to rest a lot of the time. So I need you to be nice and calm in there. No running around, no roughhousing. Got it?"

Max nods and Mark hopes he hasn't worried him too much.

..

They walk hand in hand through the automatic swinging doors into the ward. The pediatric neuro ward has brightly colored murals on the wall. The nurses' scrubs are printed with animals – strictly cute ones, bears or bunnies or lambs – and Mark can see the patient lounge is occupied by several children of various ages and a beaming young woman leading them in an art project.

It's about as cheerful as it can be, considering why they're there. But as they walk down the colorful hall, he sees something that makes him genuinely cheerful.

Annabel is standing in the hall outside her room. Standing. She's wearing bright green hospital pajamas and her own fluffy yellow robe, a soft floppy hat covering the bandages on her head. She smiles when she sees Mark and Max and takes a step toward them.

"Bel!" Max calls, bouncing in his father's arms. "Was that too loud?" he whispers to Mark.

"It's okay." He ruffles Max's hair and they head toward Annabel, stopping a few feet away.

At closer range, her face looks more swollen than yesterday, puffy under her eyes and on her cheeks. It's to be expected after surgery, Mark reminds himself, and will go down on its own. The smile is very much hers, and she's standing . Addison is holding her hand, looking as happy as Mark feels, and a nurse is slowly pushing the IV pole next to her.

"Can you walk to your dad?" Addison asks gently.

Mark feels a prickling behind his eyes. They would sit facing each other on the floor of their bedroom, Annabel toddling unsteadily from one of them to the other. Walk to Mommy! Walk to Daddy!

Gently, he sets Max down next to him.

Annabel's steps are tentative and slow, not the sure and graceful steps of her normally athletic self. But that will come in time, he knows. For now, seeing her place one foot in front of the other is exponentially more miraculous than her fastest turns on the ice. by He crouches down to receive her and when she reaches him she leans forward and wraps her arms around his neck.

"I did it."

"You did it, babe." He hugs her back carefully.

"I'm tired," she whispers, glancing back at Max and Addison.

He understands and at a nod from the nurse, he stands up, slowly, with his daughter in his arms. He shifts her carefully into one arm and pushes the IV pole with his free hand, relishing the feel of her in his arms again.

He lowers her gently onto the bed while a nurse reattaches her port. Addison sets Max in a visitor's chair and then joins him at Annabel's bedside. Drawing the pink coverlet up around her, and they adjust the bed so she's mostly sitting up.

"Okay, Bel?" Gently, Addison removes the soft hat that was covering her head in the comparably cool hallway. There's a bandage covering the part of her skull that was shaved and subsequently opened, with light gauze wrapped around the rest of her head. Soft dark hair hangs down underneath in waves.

"How are you feeling, Annabel?" The nurse smiles at her.

"Good," she says. Her voice is still a little husky from intubation, but she's starting to sound more like herself.

"You want to say hi to your brother?"

She nods.

Mark holds his hand out and his son trots over. Mark lowers the guardrail so he can see better, then rests his hands on Max's shoulders in case of overenthusiasm. But Max is taking the calmness mandate seriously, waiting patiently for Annabel to speak first.

"Maxy, you're so quiet."

Max beams at the compliment. "Hi." He looks up and down the bed. "You taking a nap, Bel?"

"No," she says softly. "I'm up."

"You want to play with me?"

"Okay." She smiles at him.

"Just give us a minute." Addison draws the curtain around Annabel's bed and Mark leads Max across to the room to one of the visitor's chairs, lifting his son into his lap.

"How does it feel to see your sister?"

"Good." Max says thoughtfully, cocking his head. "Really good. But she looks the same to me."

Ending on cuteness instead of a cliffhanger? Who wrote this?! (Reviews are the greatest thing since Shonda created Grey's - send me one! And tell me if you like getting a preview of the next chapter (see below for example) or if you'd rather be surprised.)

Next time: Addison confronts the Captain, the return of Callie, and more.

On a more serious note, Addison's memories from the last chapter will come up again in future chapters, and I will give content warnings. I find the idea painful as well as several of you who noted that in your reviews - I also think it unfortunately makes some sense given her backstory of adult neglect as well as being encouraged by a parent from an early age to hide things from the other parent. This will be explored in later chapters.

Title lyric from Leonard Cohen's Sister of Mercy.