A/N: Patsy, mandyg67, Birdieq, Msmiumiu, thank you x 1,000 for checking in every chapter to tell me what you think - no small feat when this thing is 34 chapters long at this point. Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review at any time! I'm so grateful for everyone who's reading - only two more chapters to go before the epilogue. Please note that this chapter contains general references to past child abuse.

This one is a chapter I've been waiting for - and looking forward to - for a while. I hope you'll enjoy...

always something there to remind me

"Mom!"

Annabel – all seven years of her – skates across the shiny rink toward her mother with a big smile on her face, long hair flying out from under her purple helmet, hands extended, and Addison leans down to catch her.

"Skates, Bel," she says automatically, lifting her daughter into her arms, and Annabel bends her knees like she always does at the rink at home to keep from kicking her skates into her mother's legs. "But these skates aren't sharp," Annabel reminds her.

"True." Addison kisses her cheek, smiling at her daughter, whose face is flushed with excitement and exertion, blue eyes sparkling. "Speaking of which … what do you think of roller skating?"

"I love it. I love it, love it, love it, and I love my party." Annabel squeezes her around the neck. "Thank you!"

"You're very welcome, birthday girl." Addison sets her back on the rink.

The rink has been wonderful to work with, open to and conscious of all their requests – no flashing lights, not with Annabel and Caitlin both at risk for seizures, a perfectly energizing musical lineup, and everything smells like hot, fresh popcorn that a smiling staff memberscoops out and serves to the guests in roller-skate shaped paper cups. Skeighties, that's the name, and Addison, Mark, and Derek have been exchanging knowing glances each time a hit from the decade of their teenaged, college, or medical school days starts echoing across the rink. There are reasonably comfortable bleachers with padded seats – Meredith is on one of them now, laughing and steadfastly refusing to skate – and a general air of merriment.

Yes, Annabel's birthday, so far, has been a roaring success. Their newly seven-year-old slept through the night and woke up cheerful after the frightening migraine of the night before – post-migraine euphoria, that's what Amy said, enjoy it while you can. After a well-received breakfast of pancakes and fruit – Annabel's traditional birthday meal – all four Sloans visited Left Turn, a helmet and gear shop recommended by Nurse Christie. The heavily tattooed and extremely friendly owner revealed that he spent a year in a helmet after a biking accident and used to paint them every month to change the design. Annabel received the information wide-eyed, and chose a purple and silver helmet from the store's impressive selection of children's gear. Max selected a green one with a dinosaur painted on top. Mark's choice was navy, of course – and Addison let Annabel choose her mother's helmet, not even letting herself regret it when Annabel happily selected a bright pink and extremely sparkly one.

All in all, it was a top-notch shopping experience, even when the owner informed Mark and Addison that they both had "larger than average" heads; when Mark glowered, Addison just leaned over to murmur in her husband's ear, I delivered two of your children … that's not news to me. Annabel proudly told the owner it was her birthday, and as he congratulated her he slipped a present into the already full bag of gear … which turned out to be a package of child-safe temporary tattoos. Mark winced; Annabel and Max pleaded, and as a result…

..

"Um, Addison? When did your kids get tattoos?"

"Well…" Addison smiles at Callie, who is sipping a soda and sporting a side ponytail, presumably in honor of the general vintage theme at Skeighties.

"No, I like them. It's very biker chic."

"They're temporary and organic and non-toxic and she was so good about the helmet and gear and… well, it's her birthday," Addison says.

Callie grins, gesturing around the open space. "And a festive one, too. Look, we can't stay very long…"

We includes Dr. Robbins, who is currently flying around the rink with a trail of children behind her like a blonde Pied Piper on skates.

"…because we have to get back to work, but we wanted to come by."

"I'm so glad you did."

Callie glances at the rink. "Seven years old, huh?"

Addison nods, feeling just a slight twinge of uneasiness – maybe just because Annabel is growing up so fast – seven already, her baby who just yesterday, it seems, was tangling her tiny fingers in Addison's long hair and teething on rattles fresh from the freezer.

And now she's seven.

And she's skating hand in hand with Caitlin around the rink, long hair flying out from under both of their helmets, each helmet protecting the healing skull from the surgery that saved her life. Addison notes that they're pretty much exactly the same height – that's my fault, Caitlin's mother, Jasmine, grinned when someone mentioned it. I gave her the peanut gene.

..

Annabel skates over to the open entrance with a big smile on her face. "Can Thomas come skate with us? Please?" Behind her, Max has his little hands clasped prayerfully, presumably having solicited Annabel to be his spokeswoman.

Addison sees Meredith and Derek exchange a glance. Thomas is already wearing little skates – impossibly little, and really quite ridiculously adorable, and he's been enjoying himself sitting on his mother's lap and spinning the wheels. But now he looks up with some interest at Annabel's voice.

In the end, Thomas makes the decision himself, wriggling to get down from his mother's lap as Annabel holds out her hands to him. Derek adjusts his gear first, helps his son onto the rink and then they all watch as Annabel take both of Thomas's little hands in hers and begin to skate backwards, towing him forwards along the shiny floor of the rink.

It's the way they used to skate with Annabel when she was tiny and they were teaching her, and the way Annabel in turn skated with Max.

"Should she be skating backwards?" Mark murmurs.

Addison glances at him. "She's wearing all her gear. I say we let her."

Addison leans slightly against Mark and they watch as Annabel and Max skate side by side with Thomas in between them, one of his little hands in each of theirs.

Next to them, Meredith and Derek are standing in much the same position, watching too.

The rink is quiet for a moment as the track changes and then Addison recognizes very familiar opening notes and can't help smiling.

...I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me...

"This song," she says wryly.

Mark smiles. "Of course. Addison's jukebox go-to."

...and every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be...

Derek nods. "She always sang along," he recalls.

"But she can't sing," both men add in unison.

...well, how can I forget you, girl?...

"Thank you," Addison says sarcastically.

...when there is always something there to remind me…

"Come on," Mark teases her, "you can't be perfect at everything. You'll have to settle for being perfect at almost everything."

Meredith is smiling at all three of them, looking amused.

"What?" Derek asks, bumping her gently with his shoulder.

"Nothing, just … you had this whole life, before I met you. You were young and everything. It's really cute."

Derek frowns. "Well, sure, I had a past, but my life didn't really start until I met you," he says.

Meredith's eyes soften as she pulls Derek's head down for a kiss.

"Damn, he's good," Mark comments to Addison, who nods.

Meredith pulls back, laughing. "Are all the kids still upright?" She peers through the plastic to confirm. "Annabel and Max have been so great with Thomas," she says to Addison.

"Max is going to be sad to leave him. You may end up with a stowaway."

"Mark," Derek points to their children on the rink, Thomas skating between Annabel and Max - well, actually, gliding with his feet together while Annabel and Max tow him. "That's how we used to skate with Amy, remember? On the pond behind the middle school?"

"I remember." Mark smiles. "But she didn't have skates."

"No." Derek pauses. "I think we made her wear Nancy's old ballet slippers so she'd slide more easily. You remember?"

"I do remember. Those slippers weren't very warm and I'm pretty sure it came up in therapy … more than once."

"Amy!"

All four of them turn around to greet her.

"You made it," Mark kisses her on the cheek. "Annabel will be happy."

"And you're wearing skates already," Derek says approvingly.

"And your helmet has a skull on it," Addison says with interest. "Is that a symbol of … something?"

"…I'm a brain surgeon," Amy says as if the answer is obvious. She lifts one of her feet to show them her roller skates, white with large orange wheels and bright orange laces. "Check it out. I've never worn skates that fit before. It's a whole new world. I had no idea what size to get, but the guy in the rental room back there didn't have a pair labeled 'Lizzie's old skates with a ball of socks stuffed in the toes and duct tape instead of laces'."

"Amy remembers every slight from our childhood," Derek announces.

"That wasn't a slight," Amy says indignantly. "It was fun. I loved when you took me to that pond. Even if I almost went through the ice a few times."

"Well, there's no ice here," Addison says hastily. "Amelia, did you – oh, hi." She stops as Alex Karev strolls up, holding a pair of skates in one hand.

"What's up?" He asks amiably.

"I'm so glad you could come." Addison smiles at him. "I thought you needed to work."

"Case was postponed, and Little Shepherd here gave me a ride, so," he grins at her. "I'm ready to tear up the ice."

"It's wood, actually."

"Same thing," he shrugs.

"And don't call me Little Shepherd," Amy adds.

..

It's one of her favorite things about skating, the pacing, the feeling of the wind – well, here, the inside air – moving her hair. And the closeness. Addison tucks her hand into Mark's arm and slows down their pace, watching the Annabel and Max skate with Thomas, Caitlin and Tess close behind, all five brightly colored helmets making them look a bit like a collection of tropical birds.

There's a commotion as they skate back around to the rink's entryway.

"Don't you dare – Derek!"

Addison turns at Meredith's shriek and sees that Derek has scooped her into his arms and is now skating merrily, serenely, around the perimeter of the rink. Thomas lets go of Annabel's hand when he sees his parents and claps with delight.

Addison raises her eyebrows. "Is that …"

"Safe?" Mark shrugs. "Derek went to states in ice hockey three times in a row, remember? He's better on skates than most people are on shoes." He glances at Addison. "Oh, you mean because she's..."

Addison shakes her head; after all, she and Mark skated a whole winter in Central Park while she was pregnant with Max, a toddler Annabel clinging joyously to their hands. "But it's against the rules. Derek, that's against the rules," Addison calls, smiling, as Derek approaches again with Meredith still in his arms.

"Spoilsport." Derek makes a face at Addison. "Fine, I'll put her down ... if she'll agree to skate with me."

"Agreements made under duress aren't valid," Jasmine points out, gliding by hand in hand with Caitlin, who giggles.

"Isn't she a yoga teacher?" Derek asks, gesturing towards Jasmine's retreating back.

"You don't have to put me down," Meredith concedes. "But you do have to kiss me."

Derek obliges, and then sets her carefully on her feet to kiss her again. She smiles up at him.

Addison sees Meredith's eyes soften. "Fine, one more time," she says, gesturing at the rink.

"Oh, famous last words ... you never stick to them, though," Derek winks and takes off arm in arm with Meredith. She shrieks a few times, but by the time Addison sees them again, as both couples glide around the whole loop, she's laughing instead.

..

They switch partners with songs, keep an eye on all the kids, and signal Annabel off the rink at regular intervals to check on her, which she handles surprisingly well.

"I feel good," she says firmly. "Really good. Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah, Bel."

"I like it here."

"At the rink?"

"Yeah, I love the rink. But I meant Seattle. Seattle … is fun," Annabel says. "I like the boats and the people and the roller skating. But not the pizza, and also our new apartment is too small."

"My city girl." Addison smiles at her, drawing her in for a hug.

Annabel pauses. "Mom … you have a lot of friends here."

"What do you mean, sweetie?"

"I mean like … grown-up friends. Dr. Shepherd and Dr. Grey, and Dr. Girl-Shepherd, and Dr. Karev and Dr. Torres and Dr. Robbins. And Mr. and Mrs. Johnson too."

Well … she pauses. We have friends in New York? That's not strictly true. They have the parents of Max and Annabel's friends; they're on cordial, even friendly terms, but that's not … friends. Addison chats with her residents occasionally, usually about career planning or their caseloads, but she knows the name of a few of their significant others and … things like that. And she knows Mark is mostly in the same position, reviewing highlights the day after Yankee games in the summer, or Giants games in the fall with the occasional other attending, giving advice to his residents … nothing close, nothing intimate.

They had that, before. They both had it with Derek and Addison had it with Derek's sisters, too. And with Savvy, and Naomi, her two closest old friends before her marriage blew up.

Afterwards … well, afterwards they just turned inwards. They didn't discuss it, not specifically, but from the moment Mark and Addison walked together from the large glass building on Park Avenue on that summer day, protecting their growing family became their absolute strongest purpose. Threats to it needed to be eliminated.

It's not that she wants a buzzing social calendar., not exactly. Her preference is to spend the majority of her non-working time with Mark and her children, and she has no desire for that to change. To be able to call up Savvy, though, talk to someone who knew her and loved her before she was a mom? That might be nice. Even just … once in a while. Like she did a few days ago at Ida's non-too-subtle suggestion.

Annabel's little face is wistful. Addison thinks of what they've gained from opening their tight Sloan family borders: Derek, Meredith, and Amy, saving Annabel's life. Savvy and Alex Karev, helping them figure out a way to do it. Callie, supporting her and helping Max. Arizona, Max's favorite. Even reaching out to the Captain, difficult at the time and maybe difficult still, might make the difference between Derek's medical license and losing it.

Addison reaches down to stroke her cheek.

"We'll keep in touch, okay? And maybe we'll come back and visit sometime."

"Yeah, okay." Annabel smiles. "Mom … guess what, Caitlin said I can come over to their house and ride her horse!"

Not on your life, missy.

"We'll see." Addison adjusts her daughter's helmet. "You'd better get back out there before the song changes, Bel."

..

They're skating in a line of four – taking advantage of the rink's relatively lax rules – with both kids between them now, Derek and Meredith – who seems to have changed her mind about skating – doing the same with Thomas a few feet ahead. She pauses.

"Wait, is that-"

"Mommy," Max pulls on her hand, because her stopping has caused the rest of the family to windmill out ahead of her.

"Sorry, sweetheart." She glances at Mark. "I'm just going to …"

"I'll come with you." Mark fits Annabel and Max's hands together neatly and their children skate away hand in hand while Mark and Addison head for the gate.

"You, um, you came."

He's most decidedly not wearing skates – he looks impeccably groomed as usual, yet just casual enough to make clear he doesn't feel he has to try very hard. But at least he's managing not to look horrified at the scattered popcorn kernels, pumping 80s music, or the five children shrieking with glee on the rink. To say this is not his scene would be a massive understatement. But he peers through the plastic and waves at Annabel and Max. Max waves back enthusiastically when he sees; Annabel pauses for a moment, then gives a little wave back as well.

"You invited me," the Captain says mildly.

"Right. Well, actually, it was Annabel's idea."

"Ah." He nods. "Thank you to Annabel then. This is quite a party you've planned."

Addison watches her father survey the rink, where Annabel and the other four children have now formed a line with Thomas in the middle and are gliding and laughing around the rink.

"She looks … healthy. She'll make a full recovery?"

"They removed the entire mass. It will take a few weeks to get her all strength back, a few months to be back to normal completely – but you know this. She may have some side effects in the next year or two, like any child patient: occasional seizures, migraines. But overall – yes, a full recovery, thanks to Meredith, and Derek, and Amelia."

He pauses. "One of the things you said – the other day."

She glances at the rink, then leads him away from the entryway, behind the bleachers, to a quiet spot. "This isn't really the time."

"I know. But you wouldn't meet with me for lunch."

"I've been busy."

"Just – Addison, I wanted to confirm that you do know that I-"

"I know." She sighs. "I know you didn't know. You didn't know anything. And … you don't see the problem with that. That's the problem."

He looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't know me at all, or Archie either. You never got to know us, when we were kids."

"I knew things."

"Really? Did you know that a couple of our nannies slapped us around? Nothing too terrible, nothing that would keep us from cleaning up nicely for the country club, except for that one nanny…." She pauses to glance at him.

"It was … a different time, back then," he says finally.

Addison rolls her eyes. "I'm not talking about love beads and bell bottoms; I'm talking about child abuse."

He winces visibly. "No one, uh, no one really talked about those things."

"That's a problem … not an excuse. It's willful blindness, is what it is."

He doesn't say anything.

"Remember that one nanny, the one Archer punched when we were kids? She threatened to sue, or worse, go to the papers, and you and Bizzy paid her off to make sure it wouldn't keep Archie out of Deerfield? … yes, I knew about that part," she says when he looks surprised. "You do know Archer didn't take the first swing, right?"

The Captain looks at her for a moment. "The nannies were always your mother's area to handle …" he says weakly.

"You think Bizzy wanted to hear it? That would break the number one rule of our being seen and not heard except she didn't really want to see us either."

"Your mother was under a great deal of stress in those days."

"You do know that being a lesbian and being a decent mother aren't mutually exclusive, right?"

"Addison."

"One of my teachers asked about the fat lip. I lied. Of course. Who do you think taught me to lie like that … Dad?"

He doesn't answer.

"But I guess that's just the risk you run when you hire nannies for their tight asses instead of their childrearing skills, right?"

He looks grim. "This isn't you, Addison. You don't talk to me like that."

"You didn't talk to me at all!" She raises her voice, not caring who hears. "You never talked to me. Maybe if you had you would have gotten a clue and I wouldn't have-"

"Addie?" Mark has appeared around the corner, brows knitted. "Everything okay here?"

He's shooting daggers at the Captain.

Addison takes a deep breath, getting control of herself. "Everything's fine. My father was just leaving."

The Captain glances from one of them to the other. "Addison…"

Mark wraps a protective arm around her and glares at the Captain. "Thanks for coming," he says pointedly, then can't seem to help adding, "the door's that way."

"I'm sorry," the Captain says abruptly. "That's, uh, that's all I wanted to say. I'm sorry." The Captain glances at Mark. "Does he …?"

"Know?" Addison lifts an eyebrow. "We don't keep a lot of secrets from each other, not if we can help it. That must seem very strange to you in a marriage."

He doesn't rise to the bait. "That's … good, I suppose."

Addison tenses, wondering what he'll say next, and Mark holds her more firmly against his side.

"Captain," he says calmly, "didn't you say you were about to head out?"

"All right. I'm going." He holds both hands in the air. "Can I just … I brought Annabel something, you know, for her birthday."

"Fine. Just leave it."

"Well, I left it with my – I'll just go get it, then?"

"Fine," she says again, impatiently, turning away.

The Captain disappears to get whatever he's brought and Mark turns to Addison immediately, scanning her face with both hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing, it's okay, we were just … talking."

She breaks off and they're both silent for a long time.

"Addison, you know you don't have to talk to him … or see him."

"I know. But it was so sweet of Bel to think of inviting him and… he shouldn't have brought up, you know … things."

"No, he shouldn't have." Mark pauses, then tucks a strand of her hair behind one ear. "Judgment doesn't seem to be his strong suit, though."

The Captain returns holding a canvas bag – it could be one of dozens of those bags that used to sit by the front hall of every summer home she can remember – and looks from Mark to Addison.

"Mark." Addison reaches up to kiss him on the cheek. "It's okay. Just give us a minute and I'll come back in there."

"Are you sure?" he asks quietly against her hair.

She nods. "I'm sure."

Mark releases her and glares at the Captain, taking half a menacing step forward. "Don't make me regret leaving you alone with her," he says before he leaves.

The Captain watches him walk away. "He seems … like a rather angry fellow."

Addison smiles slightly at this further proof that her father doesn't know her family at all. "No, he's just protective."

"Right." The Captain nods. "Well, I brought her a birthday present. It's, well, you don't have to give it to her if you don't want to."

"What is it?" she asks, slightly nervous now, imaging something impractical that somehow costs more than Annabel's private school tuition, a dress, or jewelry, or –

"Oh." She makes just that surprised sound when she sees what he's holding.

"With your mother … traveling, we've been clearing out some of the old things, you know, and I thought Annabel might like to have something that was yours when you were young."

Traveling, WASP for divorce. But she has to swallow to try to forestall tears when she sees it.

Because he's holding a very familiar, very pink, very sparkly baton.

He seems to misread her expression. "It's junky, I know, and it's old, but, uh … you used to love this thing, when you were little, anyway. And so I had Jasper send it overnight from Connecticut. You used to try to twirl it and end up bouncing it off the floors half the time. When your mother couldn't see it, that is."

She looks up at him, surprised. "You remember that?"

He nods.

"You had that … baton-twirling nanny."

"I did." Addison starts to smile, then stops. "You slept with her, didn't you."

The Captain pauses. "Let's not ruin the moment, shall we?"

Addison winces. But supposes a partly nice moment is the best she can hope for with the Captain. It's certainly more than she expected.

"She's good," he says abruptly, gesturing toward the rink. "Annabel. She seems comfortable on whatever those … things are."

"She would prefer ice skates, but … yes, she is."

"You liked to skate, too," he says. When she looks at him with confusion, he gestures at the rink again. "At Bizzy's country house, you found her old skates. You were tiny but they fit you – you always had, well, precociously-sized feet." He smiles for a moment. "Archer dug up something as well and the two of you went out on the frozen lake. You never had a lesson or anything like that, but you did seem to like it."

Addison thinks for a moment. She's spent years trying to forget much of her childhood, but a little corner of her mind can remember a feeling of cold, the itchiness of a wool sweater, her brother's mittened hand in hers, and a sensation of flying – no, it must have been gliding. And laughing. They were laughing, cold puffs of breath visible in the chilly air.

"On a frozen lake," Addison shakes her head. "With no supervision, I'm sure," she can't help adding.

The Captain looks down for a moment. "Right. Well, I should … head out, then."

Someone else was laughing, too, in her memory. There was her high little voice, Archer's childish giggle and another voice, a deeper one. An adult's voice. She tries hard to remember more, to capture something more than the edges of laughter and the feeling of momentum.

She remembers the feeling of being swept up, leaving the ice, and tossed in the air, red pigtails flying as she giggled. And she hears a voice. Watch the blades, Addie, they're sharp, and then she's back on the lake, heading for her brother. Wait for me, Archie, wait for me! Wait!

"Captain, wait…"

He turns around.

"Look, I just want you to know that I'm … grateful to you for what you've done for Derek, and by extension for me. I am. I truly am. But it doesn't erase the past. You haven't been my family for a long time now, and if you want to get to know me know, my family now, I need you to know that things will be different. A lot different. My marriage is very different from yours. I raise my children very differently from the way you and Bizzy … raised us. If you want to get to know us – to get to know my family, I mean – you'll have to respect that."

He nods slowly.

"And, Captain … if you think Mark is angry when he's being protective … you don't want to see me if you do anything to hurt my children."

"I understand that." He pauses. "So that means lunch is still … on the table?"

She draws a deep breath and feels the sensation, again, of being set carefully down on the ice. "When we're back in New York, when things are settled down, if you understand the parameters – because I'm not a kid anymore, Captain, and there are boundaries and I'm in charge of them now … then yeah. Maybe it's still on the table."

..

Mark slings an arm around her shoulders when she approaches. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She leans against him, enjoying the familiar feel of his body against hers, the soothing sensation of his arm cradling her.

"The Captain left?"

"The Captain left."

"Well. I'd say our first roller-skating party has been a success." He glances at her. "What do you think: new career?"

"Definitely not."

Derek and Meredith approach then, Thomas in his father's arms with his little skates dangling. "Mark. Addie." Derek nods in greeting. "What are you two doing over here … congratulating yourselves?"

Mark chuckles. "You still know us, then."

"Yeah, apparently I do. But seriously … you should congratulate yourselves. You got my wife to roller skate and Annabel looks like she's having the time of her life."

"I wouldn't say Meredith roller skated," Addison points out, "so much as got caught up in a hostage situation."

"Did you hear her?" Meredith smiles teasingly up at Derek. "Eyewitnesses agree that skating was not consensual."

"Oh, but I don't agree. I was a witness too, and it was very consensual." He leans down to kiss her. "You know you loved it."

"I never said I loved it."

"Well, you didn't have to say it."

"You guys want some privacy, or…?" Mark is grinning, and Derek glares at him, taking mock offense.

Derek's phone buzzes then; he pulls it out of his pocket, laughing as a wriggling Thomas reaches for the phone too. He hoists Thomas higher, juggling his son and his electronics at once. "Hang on, sweetie, just let Daddy talk for a second, okay … hello? This is Shepherd."

Meredith reaches to help out with Thomas.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a loud room…"

Addison gulps at this; it's certainly accurate.

"…oh. Yes, I've been expecting your – oh. Well, thank you. Yes, I understand. No, it's fine … I understand. All right."

He hangs up the phone and looks around at the gathered adults. Meredith, now holding Thomas and looking up at Derek with concern; Mark and Addison; Amy, who skated over when she saw Derek take the call and is now standing next to Karev, whose arms are folded across his chest.

"Derek?" Meredith asks gently. Thomas reaches for his father again and Derek lifts his son into his arms, holding him close and looking slightly dazed.

"Derek," Amy prompts. "What was-"

"That was, uh, that was NatMed," he says quietly.

The assembled group exchanges glances with each other – it's the same group, Addison realizes, as the one gathered outside the hospital board room the day of Derek's hearing; almost unconsciously, Addison moves closer to Mark and he squeezes her hand in response.

"And they came to a decision?"

"Yes." There's an expression of wonder on Derek's face.

"…and?" Meredith rests a hand on his arm. "Derek, what did they say?"

He shakes his head as if he's still trying to believe it. "They said that I was cleared of all charges. And that my medical license is active again as of … now."

...finally. Reviews are as welcome as that phone call! We're coming to an end, and this has been a big undertaking ... I'd love to know what you think.

Title lyric, of course, from (There's) Always Something There to Remind Me, written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David but reimagined and popularized in 1983 by Naked Eyes. (And playing on Grey's at Joe's bar after Archer's surgery while Addison et al danced around, celebrating the fact that Derek had saved his life. Can you tell I've been waiting all along to use this song? I think it's very, very Maddek - even in canon, there was always something there to remind them of their shared past!)