A/N: Thank you, thank you, for sticking with this story! Just three more chapters to go, and then the epilogue. Longish chapter now to tie up some loose ends; further notes after the story.

guiding a boat takes more than your skill - it's the compass inside, it's the strength of your will

"I can't sleep."

Mark blinks into the darkness at the small voice that awakened him. Rubbing a groggy hand across his eyes, he rolls over to see Annabel's little face peering up at him from next to the bed.

He reaches out for her hand. "What's wrong?"

"Max is being too loud in there," she complains.

Addison sits up sleepily next to him. "What's he doing, Bel?"

"Breathing," Annabel says darkly.

Mark reaches for the monitor on his nightstand, where an image of a peacefully sleeping Max, covers flung off as he is wont to do, stares back at him. Addison, who has viewed her own monitor at the same time, shakes her head at him. Mark checks the time on the monitor: 4:08 a.m.

They're able to get Annabel to sleep another hour, but her good mood from yesterday seems to have dissipated. It's a struggle to get her to take her medication – even though it's the grape flavored suspension she chose – she refuses multiple choices for breakfast and complains that Max is sitting too close to her.

Max is resiliently cheerful. "Can we play soccer on the roof, Daddy?"

Mark and Addison exchange a look.

After sending Max to gather the soccer ball and other outdoor equipment, and Mark kneels down in front of Annabel's chair. "You can come up and hang out in the grass up there no matter what. But if you want to play soccer, Dr. Shepherd-" blaming Derek is a relief here; he can beat himself up later – "says you need to wear a helmet."

Annabel's eyes widen. "A helmet for soccer? I'm not a goalie."

"I know. It's to protect your-"

"No." Annabel shakes her head vigorously.

Mark turns away to murmur in a low voice to Addison. "Maybe just this once, we could…" He breaks off, indicating Annabel's miserable little figure slumped at the table.

Addison shakes her head. "I know. But if we make an exception now it's just going to be even harder to do it down the line."

She turns back to Annabel. "Why don't we go upstairs with the guys and read, sweetheart? I'll bring a blanket, and it will be like-"

"No. Forget it," Annabel scowls. "I don't want to go up there anyway."

"Bel…"

"I can play here too," Max offers happily. "Want to play with me here, Bel?"

"No."

"You can pick what we play."

"Leave me alone, Max, I don't want to play with you!"

"Annabel," Addison touches her cheek. "There's a kinder way to say that, honey."

"I don't care," she retorts.

"You're mean!" Max says, staring at his sister with wide eyes. "You're mean now!"

"It's okay, buddy, let's give your sister some space." Mark guides Max toward the door.

"Go away!" Annabel calls after them, and then starts to cry. Addison shoots Mark an I've got this look and he nods from the open doorway; with an unspoken agreement, he takes Max upstairs to play while Addison soothes Annabel.

..

"Bel doesn't like me anymore," Max says matter-of-factly in the elevator.

"That's not true, bud."

"She doesn't want to play with me."

"She's not feeling so great right now."

"But you said she was all better."

"She is all better in some ways. But she still has some not-good feelings from being in the hospital, and that makes her tired … and sometimes cranky."

Max's worry is soon lost in the game. Annabel's kicks have superior accuracy to his, but Max's sheer joy in playing makes kicking the ball with him inescapably enjoyable.

Mark just watches his son for a moment. Max was so small when he was born – smaller than Annabel; at three weeks early, he was considered full term, but still an inch shorter and a pound lighter than his sister. He looks so sturdy and strong now, hopping happily around the grass, no longer a baby or a toddler either, but a little boy. Mark has a moment of emotion where he realizes Max will soon be just a boy, no longer so little, and then … a teenager, and a man. That's enough to make him need a drink, actually…

"Daddy! You missed that one!"

He refocuses on the game. "You're right, bud. Point to you."

He keeps Max out for a while, letting him burn off some energy and enjoying the fresh air.

"Daddy?" Max turns to him in the elevator after enthusiastically pressing the button several times. "How come Dr. Girl-Shepherd doesn't live with us anymore?"

Mark smiles. "She has her own room to live in now."

"In our hotel?"

"Yup. Right down the hall, actually. But she's been working a lot at the hospital – she's helping Dr. Shepherd out with his patients." Mark sighs inwardly at this, wishing NatMed would hurry up and issue an official decision so Derek can go back to work. Of course, then the hospital will need to vote on his reemployment, but any hospital in the country would be lucky to get Derek Shepherd.

..

"Shh." Addison puts a finger to her lips, stroking Max's hair with the other hand. She indicates her own bedroom: "Bel's sleeping."

"You want me to take him back out?"

"He's fine in his room, if you close the door."

Max heads off to play while they talk. Addison shakes her head as soon as they're alone.

"She's frustrated," she says simply. "She doesn't feel 100% and doesn't understand why, and is apparently politically opposed to helmets. And she's tired and she had brain surgery and her life has been turned upside down in the last two weeks."

"True." He sits down with a sigh. "Poor kid."

"Mark," Addison begins. "I've been thinking…"

But before that sentence can end, Annabel wanders out of their bedroom, rubbing her eyes. She looks very small and rumpled as she blinks in the bright light, reminding Mark simultaneously of a baby bird and of her younger self.

"Hey, sweetheart, did you have a good nap?" Addison is kneeling in front of her, brushing back her hair, and Mark smiles at both of them.

Max peers around the open door of his bedroom. "Is Bel up now?"

"She's up, bud, but let's-" Max has already disappeared, beaming, then reappears with the box of Animal Friends cards, the memory game, under his arm.

"Can she play with me now? Bel, can we play?"

Mark reaches for his son as he pads through the living area of the suite. "Let's give her a little space, buddy, she just woke up."

"That's mine!" Annabel, who has been leaning sleepily on her mother, suddenly comes alive, making a beeline for Max, who hugs the game protectively to his chest.

"That's both of yours, Bel," Addison says mildly. "It's okay for him to-"

"No, he can't play with it!" Annabel reaches out to grab the box from Max, pulling on it. "Give it back."

"I can too!" Max pulls back on the box, seemingly surprised that he can get it away from bigger, normally stronger Annabel, and she gives it another yank in response. This time, the lid pops open, shiny cards imprinted with various animals tumbling to the floor and surrounding both children's feet. Max's lower lip trembles at the sight.

Mark glances at Addison and then puts out a hand. "Okay, let's call a truce and clean up. Bel, why don't you-"

"Look what you did!" Annabel interrupts to yell at her brother. Before either of them can intercede, Annabel has put out both of her little hands and shoved Max, hard; caught off balance, he slips on on the cards and falls backwards into a pile of smiling animals.

For a moment no one moves.

Then Max bursts into tears that border on hysteria – probably more surprise than pain, Mark assumes, since the floor is carpeted and his bottom took the brunt of the fall. Max reaches for his mother, wailing, and Annabel turns and bolts out of the room before either of them can say anything to her.

With Addison rocking a sobbing Max, Mark ventures out to locate their daughter. He finds her lying face down on the big bed in Mark and Addison's room, resting her cheek on her hands with her head turned away from him. He sits down on the bed next to her, studying the bandages on her head marking the place where her life was saved. Saved ... and also thrown in to tumult.

He rests a hand on her back, rubbing gently, and waits for her to acknowledge him. After a few moments, she rolls over and looks at him with tear-filled eyes.

"It's my game," she says, sounding exhausted and a little uncertain.

"It's both of yours," he responds calmly. "But even if Max had a game that was just yours, you still don't hurt him. You know that, Annabel. There are other ways to fix things and pushing him down like that is never okay."

"I know!" She looks away. "But I was mad."

"What were you so mad about?"

"Nothing."

Mark reaches out to help her sit up. "Remember, we talked about how getting better from an operation can make you feel sick … or weird … or even cranky."

She shrugs.

"You think that's part of why you were so mad?"

"No."

"Okay, Bel, whatever makes you mad, you know better than to put your hands on anyone like that, especially someone smaller than you are."

"You did." She looks at him. "You hurt Caitlin's dad and he's smaller than you."

Mark takes a deep breath, images crashing through his mind. The terror he'd felt when, nearly delirious with lack of sleep, he thought he saw Annabel in danger. The horror when he realized what he'd done. The fear on Caitlin's face, and on Annabel's … and on Addison's.

"I was wrong to do that," he says evenly. "And Caitlin's dad knows that, because I've apologized to him, and we've talked about it. And I'm not going to do it again."

"So ... I should apologize to Max?"

He takes the offer to change the subject, even though he realizes that can't be the end of it. "You should definitely apologize to Max." He holds out a hand to her and she slides reluctantly off the bed to join him.

She does apologize to her brother, nicely, and an unharmed Max accepts it readily. He's still snuggled on Addison's lap, one hand playing with her necklace like he used to do when he was small, resting his head against her, while Mark helps Annabel clean up the Animal Friends cards.

Then Mark sits back on his haunches to exchange a glance with Addison.

"You know what? I think we could all use a change of scenery."

..

"Daddy, look!" Max points excitedly into the distance. "Is that the Statue of Liberty?"

"Not quite, buddy. We're a little far from the East River right now." Mark frees a hand to ruffle his son's already wind-tousled hair, shifting Annabel higher in his arms at the same time.

"This is fun! But I'm getting wet," Annabel squeals, laughing, as droplets from the ferry's spray splash onto all of them. His daughter's arm is looped around his neck; with the other, she points toward the horizon. "Look!"

The fresh air is cool but not really cold and it's wonderfully exhilarating to be somewhere, all four of them, that isn't the hospital or the hotel suite. Here on this boat out on the bay, they could be any other family of visitors to Seattle. With a soft little winter hat covering her head, Annabel could be any almost-seven-year-old, albeit one who gets tired a bit more easily than her peers.

Mark wraps his free arm around Addison, who's holding Max on her hip to give him a better view over the side of the boat. She turns to smile at him.

They stay out for a while, exploring the city almost like a normal family. They make sure to drive when they can, and Mark carries Annabel on his shoulders for long periods when she gets tired, but they make it. They wander through Pike Place Market; when the drizzle gets the best of them, Annabel votes for the children's science museum and then they let Max, lover of planes, convince them to try the Museum of Flight. So for a short time – but a time nonetheless – they're just a normal family enjoying what Seattle has to offer.

..

"That was a good idea," Addison murmurs to him once they've carried both sleeping kids in from the car and put them in bed to finish their respective naps.

"I agree."

Addison is moving through the kitchen, unconsciously picking things up and putting them in place. She glances at him. "You know the Captain is still here? He wants to have lunch with me."

Mark is crouching under the table, extracting a rubber dinosaur that has taken up residence in the carpet. "What did you tell him?"

"I'm pretending I didn't get the email." She laughs. "No, I don't know. I don't know why he's still here. It's like he's … waiting for something, but I don't know what it is. He's met the kids, and…"

Mark stands back up. "Did he say anything about what he wants?"

"He said he wants to – start over, to spend time with me."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's weird. I'm not totally opposed, but I think it's weird. You think I should do it?"

"If you want to."

"Mark … you might be spending too much time with that shrink."

He smiles at her. "We could go together, if you want backup."

"I thought I'd bring Max, if I go, just so we don't … stare at each other waiting for the other one to blink."

"Not Annabel?"

"I'm afraid she might punch him."

Mark shakes his head, fighting a smile.

By unspoken agreement, they take advantage of the kids' naptime to stretch out together on the couch in their bedroom. "Mark…"

"Hm?" He's stroking her arm idly, his other hand behind his head.

"I told the Captain."

No need to ask what she means. "You did?"

"Yeah. He, um … didn't know anything."

Mark nods. Lying like this, back to front, he can't see her face.

"And I believe him," she responds to his unspoken question. "I … I've seen him lie, Mark. I've seen him lie a lot. To Bizzy, to my brother, to me … I can tell when he's telling the truth."

"How was it? Talking to him."

"It was … okay. He, uh, he gave me a handkerchief."

"Is that like the WASP version of a hug?"

She laughs a little. "Maybe."

"Mark … ." She turns around, resting a hand on his arm. "I think I want to tell Derek."

"Because he was asking about what happened with Stuart? You don't have to do it just because of that, Addie."

"No, that's not it. And I know I don't have to. It's just – I don't know, it feels right. Like closure or – something. It feels right, and… " Her voice trails off. "You think it's a bad idea?"

"I think you should tell whoever you want to tell. Whatever you need, Addie."

For long moments, no one talks. Addison rests her head against his arm, eyes closed, but she's still awake.

"Stuart and I talked about Derek yesterday," Mark says finally.

"Yeah?" She opens her eyes to look at him.

"Yeah. When I met Derek and he brought me home, you know, I was this … kindergarten kid," he pauses for a moment, remembering, and he can tell she's also seeing Max, a year in the future. "And I was lonely, and damaged, and desperate for attention. And his parents, they saw it. They couldn't miss it, really; it was written all over me."

Addison nods.

"So they took me in. They made me feel like a part of their family. They listened to me. They actually cared. They were good people but I was … I would have been grateful for any attention. It would have been so easy for me to catch the wrong person's eye, but I didn't. It was just luck. Sheer luck."

"Luck and the fact that most people are basically decent," Addison adds.

"Stuart said that too."

Addison smiles. "I'm glad you found the Shepherds," she says softly.

"Me too," he says. His throat clenches. "But I'd give that up in a minute if … I mean, I just … wish it had been me instead," he confesses.

"Oh, Mark." She moves closer to take him in her arms; he rests his head on softness and relaxes for a moment as she cradles his head. "I don't wish that," she says softly, and for a few minutes they just hold each other.

He takes a long breath and draws back first, kissing the side of her face.

"So you're going to talk to Derek?"

"Yeah, I think so. But not yet. I want to wait for NatMed to hand down the official decision. I don't want to add … well, you know he has enough to think about."

"Have you heard from him today?"

Addison shakes her head, smiling. "No, Meredith told me he's off the grid – in the wilderness with Thomas doing some kind of camping thing. He's definitely making the most of his time off."

Addison glances at him. "Derek, uh, he got stuck spending time with my parents, you know? When we were married. I'm glad you were spared that."

Mark just nods, stroking her hair.

"Archer liked you better, though." And she smiles softly, even though it's tinged with sadness like it always is when she mentions her brother.

"Addie, are you sure I can't pour you a glass? I selected this one myself in Napa. It's divine."

"No, thank you. I'm nursing."

Archer looks blank.

"If I drink wine, so does the baby," Addison explains patiently.

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

Addison laughs nervously.

"She's half Montgomery, sis. Didn't Bizzy fill our bottles with gin?"

"She didn't," Addison says quickly, glancing at Mark, who has made himself scarce – or a least quiet – enough for the siblings to get reacquainted. But he sees Addison's shoulders tense at the mention of her mother. "Will you, um, will you see Bizzy while you're out here?"

Archer shrugs. "Depends. My visit is … unexpected."

"You were supposed to stay in California longer, weren't you?" Addison shifts Annabel on her lap, holding out a toy that their daughter grabs with delight. "What happened?"

"Well, I was on a book tour. And then …" Archer pauses to take a long sip of wine. "…I slept with my agent's wife. Third time, actually. Well. Different agents each time. And, needless to say, different wives."

"Archie!" Addison looks scandalized, but also amused.

"This one didn't take it too well." Archer glances at Mark. "You know how that goes."

Mark grimaces. Addison loves her brother, and Mark loves that someone in Addison's family actually seems to be interested in her, but he's not always easy to be around.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding!" Archer slaps Mark on the back. "What's a little joke between brothers in law?"

"Be nice, Archie."

Her brother makes himself comfortable on the couch with another glass of wine while they bathe Annabel. Slick with bubbles and bathwater, their daughter resembles an octopus more than a baby. A very cute and very strategic octopus who waits until both her parents have leaned in close to slap the bathwater with pudgy little hands and cover them both with sopping suds.

They're all laughing, including Annabel. "At least we know it's actually tear-free." She brushes bubbles off her face.

"I'll put her down," Mark offers. "You go spend some time with your brother."

"Yeah?" She kisses him, gives a shiny clean Annabel, restrained by a towel with a duck's head that makes her look even cuter than usual, a long cuddle, and then turns to head back down the hall.

"Mark?" she turns around. "He's not really like that, you know. Archer, I mean."

Annabel is grabbing at his chin, giggling; he pretends to nibble her fingers and she shrieks with laughter. He pauses, confused, at Addison's words.

"Like what?"

"Like … them." She looks down, then back into his eyes. "You understand?"

It seems important to her so he nods. "Yeah, I understand."

..

At Addison's urging, he meets Stuart again for a run in the early evening, on parkland close to both the waterfront and the hotel. The air feels clean and cool, pumping legs and expanding lungs. They push hard for a while, then pause to stretch against a tree as Mark gives Stuart an abbreviated version of Annabel's outburst this morning.

"She was mad, that's what she said."

Stuart nods.

"And she said I did the same thing," Mark repeats. He busies himself tightening the laces of his running shoes so he doesn't have to make eye contact.

"Did you do the same thing?"

He considers this. "Sort of." He glances ruefully at the other man. "But I wasn't mad. Not really. Or I was mad, but it was only because I was actually …" his voice trails off. "…well, scared," he admits.

"And you don't want to tell her that."

Mark glances at the other man. "Should I?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Mark frowns. "What kind of therapist are you?"

"One who's off the clock. And unpaid."

"Right."

And with that, they push off back to the trail.

"All I'm saying," Stuart says mildly as they jog, "is that it might be nice for Annabel to hear that she's not the only one who gets mad when she's really feeling something else."

..

Stuart's given him something new to think about, as he has each time; Mark stops to pick up dinner for his family and brings it back to the hotel suite, mulling over the other man's words.

Annabel barely touches her plate. Once he's showered and changed and come back out to the living area, he sees Addison has convinced Annabel to drink some hot chocolate, or at least to hold the mug. It's always been a favorite of hers; at least that's something.

Addison takes her leave when Max calls for her from his bedroom, and Mark and Annabel are alone at the big dining table.

Mark smiles at his daughter, indicating her mug. "Is that good?"

"Yeah." She nods, then takes another sip. "I don't want any more." She's had about half the cup, better than nothing.

"Hey, Bel." He stops her as she starts to walk by. "Come and talk to me for a second."

She climbs into his lap agreeably.

"Remember when we talked before, and you said that I hurt Caitlin's dad when I was mad?"

"Yeah." She looks down at her hands and he strokes her cheek.

"You're right, except I wasn't really mad."

"You weren't?"

"No. I acted mad, but it was really because I was scared, and it came out as mad."

Annabel's eyes widen. "You were scared?"

He nods.

"Why were you scared?"

He thinks about how to say this. "It's been kind of scary, here in Seattle. Lots of new things: your operation, new place to live, new people, and sometimes that can feel confusing, and scary." He nudges her gently. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." She nods.

"You know, if you talk about how you're feeling, then it doesn't bottle up and come out as mad."

She looks up at him. "Do you do that?"

"I do. Caitlin's dad is helping me, actually. He's very smart."

Annabel smiles. "Yeah, Caitlin's smart too. You know she can multiply fractions?"

"I didn't know that, no. That's very impressive." It amuses him to hear Annabel talk about Caitlin in the same sweetly reverent voice Max usually uses for his sister. You know Bel read that whole book? You know Bel can skate on one foot the whole loop?

"She's coming to my birthday party?" Annabel looks up at her father, and he nods.

"Bel … is there anything you want to talk about?"

She shakes her head.

"Are you sure there's nothing else making you feel bad? It might make you feel better to talk about it."

She glances at him, then nods slowly.

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Want to tell me what?"

"It's my fault," she says quietly.

He's confused. "What's your fault, Bel?"

"All of it."

"Tell me what you mean."

She's been leaning against him but now she sits up on his lap, using her fingers to tick off her reasons. "I had to have a dumb brain operation and that's why we came to Seattle and that's why Dr. Shepherd had to have a hearing and that's why he doesn't have a job anymore and that's why the Captain came here even though he wasn't nice to Mom and that's why we all had to see him and …" her voice trails off. "I think that's all of it."

"That's a lot. But, Annabel … none of that is your fault."

"It is too. All of it is 'cause of me."

"No, it's not." He tips her chin up to help her meet his eyes. "That's not how it works, babe, you know that. Everyone makes their own choices. Dr. Shepherd made a mistake, but he took responsibility for it. He chose to do it. And we're all sad he's having a hearing but we think it's all going to work out. As for the Captain, your mom called him, Bel. She wanted him here to help us. That's her choice, not yours."

Annabel is quiet, maybe considering this. Mark strokes her dark hair, feeling his own guilt that his daughter may have inherited Addison's propensity to blame herself for things along with Mark's recently shortened fuse.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Bel."

"I didn't mean to hurt Max."

"I know you didn't." He smiles down at her. "You told him you were sorry, and he got it, right?"

"Right." She leans back against him again. "He still wanted to play with me after, too."

Mark nods, and Annabel is quiet for another long moment.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Bel."

"Do you think the Captain knows how to roller skate?"

..

The night has settled back into something like routine, even if it's a little later than they'd normally put the kids to bed. Addison is bathing Max in the children's bathroom; Annabel is in their bedroom with Mark, selecting a book from the shelves so he can read to her; and it happens in an instant. One minute she's laughing at something on the spine of one of her chapter books, and then next she's sinking to the floor, clutching her head with both hands.

His heart stops.

In a flash, Mark has scooped her off the ground, barked out a warning to Addison through the bathroom door and is pounding down the hall to Amy's room, thanking whatever gods he can think of that she's on the same floor. Amy pulls the door open at the first knock.

"Mark, what the – bring her in, put her on the bed," she says quickly, grabbing her medical bag.

Annabel is crying in a way that terrifies him, grabbing at her head, in obvious pain, and it's not easy for Amy to examine her. Mark pries her hands away, restraining her as gently as he can, while Amy tries to get Annabel to answer her questions.

"Show me where it hurts, Annabel."

She kicks out at Amy, hard, when she leans over her. "That good, huh?" Amy cups her chin, holding her head still. "Can you open your eyes? Open your eyes, Annabel."

"It's too bright," she wails.

"Just for a second," Amy coaxes, and she does, so she can track her eyes.

Amy exhales sharply. "She's fine."

"What?" Mark looks down at the weeping bundle in his arms. "How can she-"

"She's having a migraine. It's not unusual after that type of surgery, and it's not dangerous. Just painful and probably scary as hell for a kid, but she's fine."

"She's fine?"

"She's fine. She's miserable but she's fine. I'm giving her Rumatriptan for now – don't worry, it's approved for kids in these situations, and we'll get her a script later. I'll leave you the rest of the doses, but this should kick in right away and knock her out for a while."

With some difficulty, Mark pushes up Annabel's sleeve and holds her still while Amy injects the drug into her upper arm.

"There we go." Amy smiles at both of them. "That should do it."

Annabel's cries start to die down almost immediately after the injection; she feels limp and exhausted in his arms. He strokes damp hair away from her face.

"Oh, wait." Amy withdraws a velvet eye mask from her nightstand. "Take this, too."

He frowns. "Do I want to know what that is?"

"It's an eye mask, Mark," she says witheringly. "I like to sleep in the dark. She can borrow it – it will help with the light sensitivity."

Mark slips the mask over Annabel's head, careful of the bandages. She's mostly just whimpering now, with longer space between them, far calmer than she was before. Amy zips into the kitchen and returns with ice in a clean towel; Mark sinks onto the big chair with Annabel in his lap, holding the ice to her head.

"Poor kid." Amy glances down at her. "She'll sleep for a while, she'll be fine."

"Okay." He hears her, but it's also true that everything after she's fine is dully muted.

"So, um, you maybe missed Addie pounding on the door, but can I let her in?" Amy cocks her head curiously at him.

"Yes, of course." He's been so focused on Annabel he didn't hear anything else.

Amy speaks as she pulls open the door. "Don't freak out, Addie, she's fine. Just a migraine."

Mark looks up to see a tense Addison hand in hand with a worried looking Max, who is wrapped in his little green bathrobe – the hood has dinosaur scales on it, and Mark isn't sure how he's going to handle it when Max grows out of something so cute – and has wet hair sticking up all over his head.

"She's okay," Mark assures them both. Annabel is unmoving, curled in his lap, but her steady breathing under his hands reassures him. "I'm sorry I ran out of there, but…"

"No, I'm glad you did," Addison assures him. She's by his side now, stroking Annabel's dark hair back to see her sleeping face, as if to confirm their daughter is really fine.

Addison turns to Amy. "What do you think caused it?"

"It's not uncommon after this type of surgery in a kid her age. But how has her schedule been today?" Amy props a hand on her hip. "Food, sleep, water, activity, icky emotional stuff?"

"…erratic," Mark admits.

"Well, try to keep her on a schedule, if you can. Sleep, exercise, that kind of thing. She may not have much of an appetite, but regular mealtimes are good."

"Thank you, Amelia." Addison hugs her suddenly, hard, and Amy embraces her back for a moment.

"Addie …" Her voice is muffled in Addison's sweater. "I can't really breathe…"

"Sorry," Addison pulls back, embarrassed. "Just … thank you."

"Any time." Amy smiles at them. Max, who has been unusually quiet, seems to recognize that the worry in the room has dissipated.

He beams at Amy. "Dr. Girl-Shepherd, your dress is pretty."

"Thank you, kid." Amy gives him a twirl. "You have good taste."

Mark glances over at Amy, noticing for the first time that she's in a short halter-neck dress, her shoulders bare and her hair piled on her head, the dark outlines of makeup around her eyes, and she's taller than usual in long boots with alarmingly high heels.

"We interrupted you," Mark says immediately. "You must have been on your way out. I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine." Amy waves a dismissive hand. "Just dinner."

"I hope we didn't make you late," Addison adds, corralling Max with one hand as he starts to pad toward Amy's dresser with interest.

"Patients first." Amy smiles. "It's okay, the person I'm meeting … gets that."

"Your date is a doctor too?" Addison's tone is innocent enough.

Amy almost answers, then seems to think better of it.

Addison and Mark exchange a glance.

"Do we know him?" Addison asks mildly.

Amy doesn't answer, just smirks.

"Who?" Max asks, tugging on the hem of Addison's sweater. "Know who, Mommy?"

"We don't know who," Mark says, grinning. "Dr. Girl-Shepherd won't tell us."

"But it's someone you met here," Addison prompts.

"I'm not taking any more questions." Amy smiles wickedly. "Annabel is fine, so you're all dismissed. But seriously – text me when she wakes up, give me an update, and call if anything else comes up, okay?"

"Annabel's okay now?" Max tugs on the hem of Mark's shirt as he carries Annabel back to the Sloans' suite.

"She's okay," Mark assures him, freeing a hand to ruffle his hair as Addison unlocks the door. "She had a bad headache but Dr. Girl-Shepherd fixed it. We're all okay," he adds, starting to believe it.

"Oh. Good." Max nods, apparently satisfied, and makes himself comfortable at the dining table. "Can I have some ice cream?"

Reviews are warmly welcomed and always appreciated. Reading? Liking? Please let me know! Next time: Shepherds & Sloans are reunited at Annabel's birthday party, and some surprises.

Also, I can't believe this story is really coming to an end - I haven't finished a long multi-part story since The Girl Who Collects Shells, and that was when Addison and Sam still seemed like a potentially viable couple - so that should give you an idea of how long ago that was. Thank you again so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing!

Title lyric from Dar Williams's We Learned the Sea