Private Practice 1. Tsunami

Hey, guys :D I've fallen in love with Jake and Addison and Private Practice, so here's what I hope to be an interesting story. Not your typical drama/romance. Enjoy. x

* * *

"Cooper Freedman, don't you dare follow her into that bathroom. I refuse to be the one that paid for you and Charlotte to get arrested for having airplane sex," Addison said loudly as Cooper got up from his seat. She looked around nonchalantly when the rest of the first-class cabin occupants, those whom are awake, at least, became very quiet.

Violet snickered, breaking the silence. She had been busy scribbling down random tidbits of ideas and notes of the plane ride in her grey leather bound journal with her phone as her only source of light. Yes, regardless of all the teasing she'd gotten from Cooper, she kept a journal now. Good concepts can come by at the most random time and she figured it was the better alternative to writing on used, spotty paper napkins half-covered in bodily fluids…Bodily fluids that did not belong to her.

The frisky pediatrician immediately sat back down. He turned to glare at Addison. "Actually, you and Jake would be paying for it," he retorted, disgruntled. This transcontinental wedding after-party Addison and Jake were throwing was completely and delightfully insane. It was also the perfect chance to have some time alone with his beautiful wife. He loved the Cooplets, he really did, and he especially missed Caroline who was always so responsive and bubbly—she thought everything he did was hilarious, and rightfully so—but they require _a lot _of attention and both he and Charlotte had ever since been, quite frankly, too exhausted to have sex. And they have _needs. _It was what got them into this mess in the first place.

"Hey, I don't want to pay for your criminal activities as well," Jake smirked, raising his hand. To be honest, he didn't really care if Cooper and Charlotte got it on right there in front of him and the entire cabin, he was too in love, too filled with post-wedding bliss to be upset over anything. Jake had suggested everyone fly out to Fiji, where he and Addison were supposed to have gone together two years ago, for a two-day-one-night wedding after-party over the weekend that would double as a vacation that they all deserved. Addison had loved the idea, and so they'd booked a private beachfront villa and bought tickets for everyone at the practice plus Naomi and James.

"Criminal activity?" Came the thick, southern response. The owner of it was definitely pissed off. Poking her blonde head around the toilet door, she drawled, "The only criminal activity here's gonna be when I snap Montgomery's head off for cockblockin'." One man near the door stifled a laugh but immediately stopped when Charlotte turned to give him a menacing look. "You find my lack of a sex life amusing?" She asked, glaring.

"Charlotte!" Naomi cried disapprovingly while Addison cringed. "Leave the man alone." Naomi turned to Sam and they exchanged glances. Things were still a little bit awkward between them after their "run in" at the wedding, but both of them were perfectly content with pretending it had never happened. That they were just exes mature enough to continue being friends. At the same time, that man, the one with brown hair who looked about to be in middle thirties shook his head and returned to the movie that he had been watching.

Charlotte strode back to her seat and plumped herself down between the red-faced Cooper and sniggering Violet. "When we land, I will ride you so hard you'll be beggin' for me to stop," she whispered in her husband's ear, smiling coyly before pulling him in for a kiss.

"Oh, I don't think that'll be possible," Cooper murmured into her lips and kissed her back, ignoring the stares from the other passengers.

* * *

In the next row, Addison's lips quirked into a playful smile. "You'd think they were the ones that had just gotten married," she said to her husband, whose hands were comfortably clasped around hers. She watched lovingly as Jake turned to face her, his browns eyes twinkling with mirth, a natural smile spreading on his gorgeous face. He was wonderful inside and out. What did she do to deserve this kind heart? You save babies, Amelia would tell her, but still Addison had never felt luckier to be beside someone. She'd finally gotten her happy ending, if it even exists, and she could not ask for a more perfect prince.

Jake raised his eyebrows. "Why, do _you _want to join the Mile High Club, Sweetheart?" he teased. "Because I'd gladly oblige." And jokes aside, he really would do anything for her if she asked. He would happily give her everything without her even having to lift a finger for it. The hopeless romantic part of him believed that Addison was his true love, his soul mate. He didn't believe in coincidences and when she had showed up lying on his exam table, and then again at the practice in which he'd applied for a job at, that part of him had insisted that she must be the one. How could she not be, he reasoned, when he found all her imperfections to be endearing, all her crazy to be exhilarating and loved all the parts of her that she herself were insecure about.

"What makes you think I'm not _already _a part of it?" She countered cheekily, pursing her lips slightly and raising her eyebrows, her signature look. She'd never actually done it on a plane before, not even with Mark. There was nothing sexy about doing the deed in a cramped makeshift toilet where god knows how many other people have spilled their bodily fluids in. She went dry just thinking about the germs and diseases she could take home as a 'souvenir'.

Jake's face twitched in surprised. He leaned in until his face was close to her ears. "That's very naughty, Dr. Montgomery," he breathed, and smiled when the skin on her neck prickled. He kissed the area lightly and Addison sighed, placing a hand on his thigh.

"It's not even true," a voice behind the pair, quipped, and Jake pulled away from his wife. Amelia rolled her eyes. It wasn't enough that Cooper and Charlotte had tried to get it on steps away from everyone, now another old and married couple were starting something right in front of her. She'd seen more of Addison than she was comfortable with when she'd walked in on her and Mark years ago and she didn't want to experience anything similar ever again. She may not be able to see, but she could definitely hear them. And it was gross. And they say _she _was the wild one. Amelia continued. "Addison would never have sex in a toilet, dirty things like that are beneath her, and Her Majesty's standards are abnormally high enough."

Addison stuck her tongue in her cheek and bit back the urge to reply. As much as she loved the girl, she was starting to regret inviting Amelia to the trip.

Jake only laughed. He looked over his seat to see James asleep, his head on Amelia's shoulder, his arm splayed over her stomach. Jake smiled then turned to Addison. "That's a good thing, then, because the beach is much hotter," he said and gave his beautiful wife a kiss, feeling her smile into the kiss and then respond. His teeth pulled lightly on her lower lip before he parted his mouth and ran his tongue over the spot. One hand still interlaced with hers, he moved the other to her face, where his thumbs brushed gently. Their eyes closed as their tongues entwined, the kiss was slow, tender and teasing. Addison whined when Jake pulled away softly. He kissed her cheek before falling back into his seat.

"What was that?" Addison asked him breathily. She reclined back against her seat and turned to look at her handsome husband.

"I love you," Jake replied easily. "And I'm happy you're too classy for toilet sex."

Addison grinned at that. "Can you imagine all the virus, bacteria and microbes going into your body?" She scrunched her face.

"I can now, thanks to you," he groaned. It was not a sexy image. He closed his eyes. He might be able to catch some sleep before they land.

"Jake?" The redhead called softly.

"Hmm?" His eyes were still closed. He felt her head on his shoulders and adjusted to make her more comfortable.

"I love you too," Addison said, snuggling into her husband as she too closed her eyes.

Jake smiled, and his thumb drew patterns on the back of her hand as they both drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a beach villa on white sand and crystal-clear, cerulean blue water.

* * *

"I can't see your hands, Coop," Violet said, looking up from her book. Her parents had always told her that if she keeps reading in the dark, she would go blind one day. That day didn't come yet, so she didn't feel like putting an end to her habit any time soon. Cooper and Charlotte were sharing a blanket and there was way too much wriggling going on for her to ignore. Why can't she have been seated somewhere else? She wished Sheldon was here, instead of on a beach somewhere across the globe with his dying girlfriend. She's going to die anyway, so why bother, right? Violet felt awful for thinking that but she couldn't help but feel that if Sheldon were here, she wouldn't be alone. It might be selfish of her, but she'd have a friend to talk to, drink and mock the other couples with. Right now, she just felt like the third, no, the _ninth wheel _on this trip.

Cooper and Charlotte giggled like maniacs as Cooper shoved one hand out from under the blanket and waved it in Violet's face.

"I still can't see the other hand," Violet called before burying her face into her novel.

"Trust me, you don't want to," Cooper told his best friend, before cracking up again. Charlotte's face was buried into his neck as her body shook with laughter. He did that thing with his fingers and she became still. After a while, Cooper got up to go to the bathroom, Charlotte following closely behind, checking to see that Jake, Addison, and the passengers near the front were asleep.

Violet grabbed her free margarita and took a much-needed, long sip. Her friends were disgusting and inappropriate. And she missed Pete.

* * *

He had never been out of the country before. Sam was looking out the window into the night sky, anticipating the foreign island when he felt Naomi nudging him. He looked at her expectantly.

"Look at them," she said, pointing to James and Amelia who were seated across from them. They were asleep; the armrest between them had been pulled up, the footrest was out and they were tangled together, James' head tucked underneath Amelia's chin and their arms wrapped around each other. She didn't know James Peterson very well but Amelia was like a younger sister to her. She'd witness Amelia grow out of her pigtails and into a white doctor's coat. Naomi wanted to take a photograph of the scene. She reached for her phone.

Sam smiled took Naomi's hand into his. "Look at us. Divorced for seven years, married for longer, and here we are." He had never felt more comfortable with anyone else, and he realized that he never would because Naomi was the one for him. She had always been the one. Sam was glad Naomi had agreed to the trip even though he didn't know if she still felt the same towards him. His smile widened when she clasped his hand firmly and smiled.

It was nice being with someone so familiar, Naomi thought, sinking back. "I'm going to take a nap," she murmured as her eyelids became heavy. She knew every curve, crook, every angle Sam had. She knew the lines on the palm of his hands, the warmth of it. She'd missed that, missed him, but she would never tell him. Like she never told him about how she didn't marry Fife. She was sure that Sam was only acting this way because it was convenient and easy, given their familiarity with each other. She would never guess, not in a million years, that he still had feelings for her.

* * *

"Sweetheart, we're here," Jake whispered, running his fingers through Addison's hair. Her ocean blue eyes fluttered open as he pressed a kiss on her temple and used his hands to shield her eyes from the sun.

"G'morning," Addison mumbled into his shirt. "You smell nice," she said, breathing him in, and he chuckled.

Jake watched lovingly as Addison removed her body from on top of his and sat back into her chair, immediately rummaging through her purse. "You need a hair brush," he told her, grinning. He found her disheveled bedhead and crumpled blouse endearing.

"Gee, thanks Honey," Addison said wryly. She pulled out a compact mirror and powder and slightly dabbed at her face. "What time is it?" She asked. She combed her fingers through her hair. That would have to do for now. She would freshen up at the resort later.

"Eight," he replied, looking down at his own shirt. "I think you drooled on me, Dr. Montgomery."

"I did not!" She objected, looking up from the mirror. She turned to him and glanced at her husband's grey shirt. There was a small damp spot on his chest where her face had been. She blushed. "Okay, well, maybe I did a little bit," Addison admitted.

Jake ruffled her hair affectionately, messing it up even more, and pulled his wife into a kiss, ignoring her protests.

* * *

"Wow," Sam breathed, when the crew finally reached their beachfront villa.

"And I thought Malibu had a great view," Amelia agreed. They were all standing in front of the house, facing the ocean. The morning sun shone on the bright blue water as small waves gently kissed the shores, over and over again. She bet that if she walked into the water she would be able to see her own painted toenails. The air smelled of salt and there was a gentle breeze that would occasionally blow loose sand onto her feet. The sand was mostly all white and smooth with tiny specks of crushed seashells and twigs from fallen tree branches. There were two kids and a man building a sandcastle further away from them—they were probably from the neighboring villa—but other than that, the beach was completely deserted. To the right, though, Amelia could see openly in the distance, another area of the beach that was crowded with people in colorful bathing suits.

"It's beautiful," James nodded, his hand on Amelia's lower back. "Comes second only to you," he said and looked down at her fondly. He still hasn't gotten over how beautiful she was. Her eyes sparkled when she looked back up at him. It was like falling in love all over again.

"That was good," Jake approved as Addison and Naomi swooned. "Really smooth."

"It was, wasn't it?" James said good-naturedly. He grinned at the older doctor who was carrying Addison's bag in one hand and holding hers in the other.

The tanned bellboy arrived with the rest of their luggage and winked at Naomi as Sam tipped him.

"If ya'll don't mind," Charlotte interrupted. "Coop and I are goin' to unpack and freshen up now." She moved to pick up her suitcase and Cooper went over to help her. They exchanged sneaky looks before hurrying inside the villa.

"God, you two!" Naomi exclaimed.

"Try to make it for lunch," Jake called, laughing.

"Or dinner!" Addison added, as the door slammed. Everyone turned to look as Cooper threw his and Charlotte's bags a meter away from the entrance and picked her up, carrying her up the staircase that was directly opposite from the glass front door. Charlotte's shriek could be heard from outside.

"You'd think they'd be tired, having already done it on the plane," Violet muttered.

"What?" Naomi, Addison and Amelia squealed.

"Right next to you?" Sam crinkled his nose. "That is nasty."

"No! No, no, God no," Violet shuddered. "Well, almost."

"I pity you so much right now," Amelia said dryly, shaking her head. "Would you like a hug?"

"Yes."

Amelia hugged Violet, patting her on the back. "There, there," she said sarcastically.

"So they used the restroom?" Addison asked, pulling a face.

"Like you get to judge anyone, Addie, you were practically having an orgasm in your seat in front of me," Amelia joked, letting go of Violet. She turned to everyone else. "It was gross," she confirmed.

"I was not!" Addison complained. She looked up at her amused husband. "We were kissing… like this," she said, deciding to retaliate by giving them all a show. Addison leaned in, catching Jake's lips with her own. She held her hands around his neck as she suckled on his lip. Jake dropped Addison's bag on the ground and put both arms around her waist, responding fast to her kisses.

Violet gaped.

"Oh, hey, hey, I think we all get the idea here," Sam protested, guarding his eyes. He really didn't need to see that. He no longer has romantic feelings for Addison; he wasn't actually sure he ever had or ever was in love with her, but he loved her and he was just a traditional, conservative guy who was uncomfortable with intruding on other people's private moments.

"Exhibitionists," Amelia muttered darkly as the recently wedded couple pulled apart laughing. She poked James' arm. "Come one, let's be the first to christen this beach," she said cheerfully and with that, the two of them left to go inside the house.

"I think we should all go inside now," Naomi suggested. "What time is the lunch buffet?"

"Twelve, until three," Addison replied. "You guys wanna meet here at twelve so we can all walk to the dining room together?" She asked.

"Sounds good to me," Sam declared. He went to get his suitcase. "Nae, you need help with yours?"

"I'm good, thank you," Naomi replied. She picked up her travel bag. "Violet, you coming?" They were going to be sharing a room for the trip.

The four doctors looked expectantly at Violet, waiting patiently. The therapist cleared her throat. "No, uh, you guys go ahead. I need a moment," she said, putting on a smile. When they all have disappeared into the large, modern bungalow, Violet stood alone and stared into the ocean. She saw how the sea and sky appeared to meet at the horizon and felt a pang of sadness. It wasn't fair that the entire practice were here, celebrating without Pete. They say when people die, most of them end up in the sky, in heaven, but Violet liked to think that Pete would choose to be somewhere much cooler. He would've told God to fuck off and then run off to someplace amazing. Pete was at the horizon, Violet decided. He was there, probably getting high on marijuana with Bob Marley and bickering with Anna while watching over her and Lucas at the same time. Violet smiled at that thought. Pete would've loved Fiji. He would've wanted her to enjoy herself. She made a silent promise to try everything Pete would've done, and have as much fun as possible. She would go inside and unpack soon, she told herself; she just wanted to stare at the horizon for a little while longer, because maybe if she looked hard enough, she would see him waving to her, smiling that smile she never wanted to forget, the kind, caring one that went up to his eyes.

* * *

Amelia laced her hand around James' and led him to the beach. They were barefoot. She would be running if it weren't for the dead weight stuck on her hand.

"Woah, easy there," James said when Amelia pulled him, impatient to get to the water.

"Let's race, come on," Amelia challenged, preparing herself to run.

James gave her an incredulous look. "What are we, twelve?" He asked, but shot off ahead of her, laughing.

Amelia sprinted after him. Well, she tried to sprint. It was hard as hell to run in sand. "You are such a cheating…republican," she gasped when she got to her boyfriend. Damn, she really was getting too old for this. She looked down at her feet in the water. She'd been right. She could see her pedicured toenails through this water. She'd never seen anything clearer and as blue.

"Aw, don't be a sore loser, Amy," James said. She squealed when he picked her up, carrying her bridal style. "Or I will throw you. Right now!" He gave her a mischievous grin.

"You wouldn't dare!" She countered confidently, but the twinkle in his eyes made her uncertain. "You wouldn't."

"Really? How can you be sure?" James asked her. He smiled at the way the sun brought out the color of her eyes and the tiny specks inside those beautiful orbs.

"I'm not," Amelia admitted. "Wait!" She cried, when James made a move to dump her into the sea. She said slowly, "I'm sure because there are small rocks and seashells in the water, which would hurt me, and you wouldn't hurt me on purpose." The brunette smiled hopefully.

"Good answer, Dr. Shepherd," James said, grinning. He bowed down to kiss his girlfriend on the lips.

* * *

"Mason, my man, how're you doing?" Cooper greeted enthusiastically into his mobile phone. They'd just gotten back to the villa. He pressed the button that turned the speakers on. "Say hi to Charlotte."

"Hey, Charlotte, everything's great," came the voice inside the phone.

"Hi, Mason," Charlotte said, smiling. "How're the nannies doin'?"

Mason sounded like a proud big brother when he answered, "They're doing really well. The girls are well fed and taken care of. I helped put all three of them to sleep last night, Rachel was especially tricky but they all fell asleep eventually. You have nothing to worry about."

"I'm sure," Charlotte replied. "How about yourself, young man, d'ya miss your mama?"

"I do, but it's okay," Mason said thoughtfully. "You and dad should have fun! Don't miss me too much," he joked.

"We'll try, Mase," Cooper said. "Call us if there's any problem, okay?"

"Will do. What time is it there?"

"It is… four thirty in the evening," Cooper answered, checking his watch.

"Cool! It's only nine in the morning here. What's Fiji like?"

"Oh, you know, very beachy. Not much different from home. Very boring," Cooper assured him.

"Oh, okay then," he said, relieved. Mason had felt a bit left out when he'd heard about Aunty Addison's party and that it was for 'grown-ups only'. He'd sulked a bit before his parents left the house.

"We'll bring you back a souvenir and lots of photos," Cooper promised.

"We love you, kiss each of the girls for me will ya?" Charlotte asked.

"The nannies?" Mason asked, feigning ignorance. His parents laughed.

"No, your sisters, silly," Charlotte said. She turned to her husband and raised her eyebrows.

"Alright! Love you too," Mason said cheerfully before hanging up.

"Love you more!" Cooper called, but he was met by the sound of a dial tone.

"_The nannies. _Really," Charlotte gave Cooper a look.

"Well, they're young, attractive, and…" Cooper began. "Hey!" He exclaimed when his wife hit him on the shoulders.

Charlotte shook her head, her eyes filled with amusement. "He definitely takes after you. Come on let's go downstairs."

* * *

In the next room, Sam had just finished his shower when his mobile phone rang. He wrapped himself in one of the towels on the rack before flipping his phone open. "Yes, this is Dr. Sam Bennet," he answered.

* * *

Addison, Naomi, Charlotte, Cooper and Violet were all in the living room enjoying the free mini-bar courtesy of the resort before they all head out to dinner.

"Charlotte makes a mean margarita," Violet told Addison. Their mutual love of cocktails was one of the things that she and Charlotte had bonded over, before Charlotte had stopped drinking. "Where are your husbands?" The psychiatrist asked Naomi and Addison.

"Ex-husband," Naomi corrected before taking a bite out of a Snickers bar. She downed it with a concoction made up of lime, Cointreau, soda and tequila: Margarita a la Charlotte.

"You shouldn't mix alcohol with sweets," Cooper told her, finishing his beer.

"But it's so good! Like orange marzipan chocolate," Naomi beamed. She was already slightly tipsy and not one bit nauseous. "Addison, try it," Naomi urged, offering her friend the chocolate bar.

"I'm good, thanks," Addison said drolly.

"She'll figure it out herself soon enough," Charlotte drawled, shaking her head from the kitchen barstool.

"My husband's in the shower," Addison said, suddenly. They'd been in the shower together, but Addison didn't feel the need to mention that. She bit her lip, thinking about how her sexy, gorgeous husband had joined her in the shower earlier. He had got inside the bathroom without her knowing, hugged her from behind and pressed his fully naked self against her. After lathering each other up with soap between playful kisses, he'd gotten down on his knees and… Addison took Naomi's drink and took a swig from it. Her face was burning. She might as well have them think it was from the alcohol.

"God knows where Sam is," Naomi said. She reached for her glass but Addison held it far, far away from her.

"Naomi," Sam said, striding into the room.

"Speak of the devil," Naomi muttered under her breath. She took another bite of the chocolate bar. You delicious thing, she thought.

"Sam? Is something wrong?" Addison asked, noticing how tense he seemed. She stood up.

"Maya's been in a car accident," Sam said.

"Shit, Sam," Cooper said, walking over to his friend.

"Oh my god," Naomi got to her feet.

"God, is she alright?" Addison asked.

Violet, who had most recently left the spot on the couch next to Addison for the floor, didn't seem to notice. She was too busy consuming tequila like it was the end of the world..

Sam hesitated before replying. "She—she's going to be okay. She's in the hospital now, in New York. I'm sorry, Addison, but I think we should—"

"You should go be with her," Addison finished quickly. She was relieved that Maya was okay. "You too, Nae," she said, giving Naomi a hug. "Tell her I'm very upset that she wasn't more careful, okay?"

"Addie, we were supposed to spend time together," Naomi said apologetically, swaying slightly.

"She's your daughter, go," Addison said. She hugged Sam. "Nae's had some to drink, take care of her," she whispered to him.

Pulling away, Sam reached into his pocket for his phone. "I'll book the earliest flight to New York," he told his ex-wife.

Naomi nodded, slumping back into the sofa.

"I'll ask the hotel to get you a car to the airport," Charlotte offered, grabbing the telephone. She dialed 0 for the front desk and waited. Damn, she thought, this was what being a parent was like. No matter how much fun you were having, if something happens to your little one, you stop whatever you were doing and go to their rescue, no questions asked.

* * *

"Soo, we're all set for dinner. Where are Sam and Naomi?" Amelia asked, walking into the living room with her boyfriend. She looked around. It was abnormally quiet. Jake was sitting on the couch next to Addison, his hair still wet. Addison was leaning onto his shoulders. Violet and Cooper were sitting cross-legged on floor chugging down alcohol as if they were having a contest. Charlotte was on the stool near the kitchen islands, frowning. "Oh my god, are they doin' the dirty somewhere?" Amelia exclaimed. "What a couple of horndogs."

"They're at the airport. Maya had an accident," Addison said.

"Oh-kay, open mouth, insert foot," Amelia said, bewildered. She plopped down on the armrest next to Jake. "Maya is Sam and Naomi's daughter," she told James, who stood in front of her.

James looked surprised. "Oh, well, how is—"

"Maya's fine," Jake told them. "I think we should get goin' for dinner. Might beat the locals for seats at the restaurant," he said to the group. He rose and gave Addison his hand, which she took.

"Yeah, let's go before Violet and _my lovely husband _drown themselves in beer and tequila," Charlotte agreed, hopping down from the stool.

Addison stood up. "Sam and Nae would want us to have fun," she said.

"And Pete!" Violet shouted before collapsing into giggles.

"What?" Addison asked, as everyone turned to stare at the woman on the ground.

The drunken woman hiccupped. "Pete. Pete's at the horizon doing acupuncture on Princess Diana," she explained. "He would want us to have fun."

"Oh, Vi," Cooper said, pulling his best friend up from the floor and into a hug.

* * *

After getting back from dinner, which was traditional Fijian cuisine, everyone went to his or her respective rooms as Jake and Addison headed to beach together. They seemed to be the only two people on their side of the coast. It was dark, the only light source coming from the moon, and moonlight shone on the water like spilled silver dust in darkness. The moon glowed brightly, but not too bright as to outshine the star-speckled sky. "When I was young, I used to think that dead people became stars," Addison told Jake, breaking the silence as they walked along the shores side by side.

"I thought stars were dead angels," Jake admitted, embarrassed. It was silly, he knew, but what the hell.

Addison laughed. To her, it was illogical. "Angels can't die!"

The sound of her laughter was like music to his ears. "And how do you know that?" He questioned.

"I don't," she confessed. "I don't even know if angels existed." She questioned the existence of a lot of things.

"Neither do I," Jake said. He stopped and reached for Addison's arm when she kept on walking. Drawing her back towards him, he held her close. Caressing her well-sculpted face, from her high cheekbones to her chin, he allowed himself to become lost into her eyes as he spoke, "But if they do, you would be pretty damn close to being one."

"And you said James was smooth," Addison teased, looking up at him.

"It wasn't a line," Jake insisted, feeling her hands play with his hair at the back of his head. He inched his face closer to hers and half-whispered, "I'm serious. How did I end up with someone like you?"

"Jake Reilly, I could ask you the exact same thing."

Their lips crashed against one another's as small waves lashed into the shores. Their silhouettes on the sand merged as the moon continued to glow from above.

* * *

Cooper was in the mini-mart near the resort with James and Amelia, buying a pack of condoms when the ground shook. He yelled and pulled Amelia, who was next to him, down. James went down as well, using the counter as cover. The earthquake lasted only for a minute or two. The soap opera on television inside the store suddenly stopped. BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL TSUNAMI WARNING, EVACUATE COASTAL REGION IMMEDIATELY, flashed onto the screen. A few seconds later, a newsreporter began repeating the message, instructing everyone near the seashore to move inland within the next thirty minutes or less. The store exploded with noise. Everyone was shouting, screaming. A man in the corner got down on his knees to pray. "Oh my god," Cooper distantly heard Amelia cry out. _Charlotte, _he thought, immediately reaching for his phone. Then he remembered that his wife had turned her phone off as soon as they'd reached the island. Fuck, fuck... "Does anyone have the hotel's number?" Cooper shouted, panicking.

"Here, I do, wait," James frantically searched his pockets for the hotel brochure.

Amelia was deathly quiet, but her pulse was racing. Was she having an anxiety attack?

"I need to use your phone," Cooper told the stunned shopkeeper. _"Give me your goddamn phone!"_

The young girl handed her cellphone to him, her hands trembling. James thrusted the brochure into Cooper's hand, waiting as Cooper dialed the number. "Amelia," James shook his girlfriend gently, shouting to make himself heard through the commotion.

Amelia stopped hyperventilating. "We're gonna need water, food and first aid..." She shouted back at James and rushed to the back of the store to retrieve the items.

"And something to keep us warm!" James shouted. He turned to the shopkeeper who was packing up her things. "How bad do these things get here, anyway?" He demanded to know.

"I—I don't know, the last tsunami we had here was in 1953. The first wave was only seven meters tall... or something I'm not sure!" She yelled. She was only nineteen, she didn't want to die.

"_Only seven?" _James shouted. That was higher than a three story building. Fuck, this was insane.

"Pick up, pick up... Damnit," Cooper rattled on. "Please pick up...Hello, please connect me to the second private beach house... I don't have time to tell you who I am, there's a fucking tsunami warning on TV right now and I have to speak to my wife!" He yelled into the phone and waited while the receptionist put him through.

Amelia came back with bottles of water, instant noodles and canned food. James helped her bag those things and hurried to get more supplies. They would be able to carry about two or three bags each.

Violet answered the phone groggily. "Turner."

"Violet! Violet, get everyone and evacuate the house!" Cooper shouted.

"Coop?" She asked, drowsily. "Where are you?"

"Violet, listen to me. A giant wave is going to crash into the house in twenty minutes. Grab Charlotte, everyone else, and go inland, go as high as you can but _you have to get out of the house!"_

"Seriously?" Violet exclaimed, fully alert. If this was some sort of prank...

"_Yes, seriously, _now hang up and get the fuck out of there!" Cooper screamed.

Amelia's eyes widened in realization. No, no... "Addison!" She cried out devastatedly and grabbed Cooper's arm. "Jake and Addison went for a walk on the beach!" She screamed at him, her blue eyes filled with horror. She shook the other doctor's arm. "We have to go back," she pleaded, her voice breaking. She had to go back for Addie.

"Amelia, Cooper help me pack these bags," James yelled, running towards the counter. "We can carry about two each, it'll last us a few days."

"Addie's at the beach! We have to go warn them," Amelia shouted. She was in tears now. She had to go back for Addie. Amelia turned to run out the door.

* * *

"Charlotte!" Violet knocked the door repeatedly. This better be a dream. "Charlotte, wake up!"

"What're ya, in heat or somethin'?" The blonde shouted from inside the room and stalked over to the door. She'd expected Cooper to be banging on the door, not the woman she'd surprisingly gotten to be friends with. Pulling the door open, she was shocked to be met with a trembling Violet Turner in her T-shirt and sweatpants. "What's going on?" Charlotte demanded.

"Tidal waves. In twenty minutes. Less. We have to go," Violet stammered.

"Where the hell's my husband?"

"At the grocery store. He called to warn us. To get everyone and run. We have to go," the brunette repeated, panicking. "Where are Jake and Addison?"

Charlotte's face turned ghostly pale as her heart sank. "The beach. We have to get them!"

"There's no time! Damnit, Charlotte, there's no time," Violet yelled.

"Are ya gonna let them die?" Hurriedly, Charlotte put on her shoes. _Damnit, Montgomery, why'd you pick today to go for a walk?_

* * *

"No!" Cooper shouted, pulling her back. Amelia was screaming hysterically. "Amelia, Amelia! I told Violet to get everybody out. They'll get Jake and Addison. They will, I promise. You _cannot _go back there!"

"No, no, let me go! _I have to get Addie!"_ Amelia screeched, fighting Cooper's stronger hold on her. "I have to save her!"

James finished packing and rushed to the front of the store. "You will die!" He yelled at Amelia, his voice cracking. "If you go back there, I will too and we will die! Now get yourself together and help us carry these bags to a higher place."

"I can't, it's Addie—can't leave—Addison," Amelia choked between sobs and James pulled her into a tight embrace.

"We have to go, _now!" _Cooper yelled at the both of them, causing them to spring into action. Each grabbing two bags of supplies, the three bolted out of the store, turning left and running straight up the sloped road. None of them knew where they were going, but they wanted to be on the highest ground possible when the first wave hit.

As she was running, trying to keep up with James and Cooper, Amelia Shepherd did something she hasn't done in twenty years. She prayed.


	2. Colubrine Sea Krait

I hope you enjoy this one x

* * *

"How were you able to marry me knowing that I'd cheated on my ex-husband?" Addison questioned, her eyes glancing up to meet Jake's. The two of them were on the public beach now. They had been walking along the shore side by side in comfortable silence, with only the sound of their steps and breaths mingling with the constant, soothing music the ocean provided.

"People make mistakes," Jake shrugged. He'd honestly never thought about it before, had never asked her for more information about that part of her past. If she wanted to open up to him at some point, he would be there to listen, but he would not poke about. She deserved that much respect. He wanted her to make the decision on her own, to tell him what she wanted, when she wanted. He was a bit surprised that she had brought it up completely out of the blue, but continued speaking, "I figured you had a reason. Everyone has a reason."

"Derek was…absent," Addison admitted. "It's no excuse, but I was in a marriage that was missing a husband, can you imagine that? And Mark stepped up and started filling Derek's shoes for everything. It was innocent for a while," she said. "When I told you… That night, I was surprised you didn't drop everything and run."

"Is now too late to do that?" Jake asked, his facial expression and voice was deadly serious. He laughed when she swatted his arms. "Like I said, you've cheated before. It doesn't make you a cheater." He also believed that he would never give her a reason to run into the arms of another man.

"My parents repeatedly cheated on each other—their whole marriage had been a sham—Archer cheated on Naomi, and probably countless of other women," Addison rattled off self-consciously. "It could be possible that—"

"Adultery is not a gene," he interrupted her. "And you are not a—"

"Oh my god," Addison whispered, frantically moving behind her husband. She pointed at the ground a few feet before them. On the damp sand, a nest of at least seven black and white striped snakes slid around; frenzied, as if in distress. Then, at full speed, the creatures slithered inland together, towards a resort, finally disappearing into a bush. It was like nothing she had ever seen before.

"Colubrine sea krait," Jake said, prying Addison's death-grip from his arm. "Sea snakes," he explained when he was met with a blank stare. "They're locals of this island." He had heard stories of these docile creatures. Although deathly venomous, they tend to keep to themselves and don't attack humans unless provoked or threatened. Seeing a bunch of them together, though, was odd, he thought. He remembered vaguely that snakes weren't social animals, naturally coming together only during mating season. There was something off about all of them scurrying away at the same time but he brushed the thought aside.

Addison felt something cold and slippery on her feet and froze. _This is why I hate nature. _"Jake, there's something on my feet. Please get it off of me," she said calmly, closing her eyes as she silently hyperventilated.

Jake looked down. The sea level had somehow risen up to where they were standing, and what Addison thought was a snake was a clump of seaweed resting comfortably on her feet. He raised his eyebrows at his rigid wife, whose eyes were currently shut. "Sweetheart, open your eyes," Jake chuckled.

"No."

"Open your eyes, Addison."

Addison gave in and looked down. She grimaced, but was relieved at what she saw. She shook the offending plant off her feet, suddenly becoming aware of the water around them. She and Jake were ankle-deep in seawater, which was abnormally still.

"The sea level's rising, come on," Jake prodded, ushering Addison to dry land. They stopped a couple of meters away from a bar. "Do you think the water usually comes up this far?" He asked.

Addison would've answered "No" had the both of them not tumble down onto the sand as the ground beneath them shook and vibrated, a flurry of sand blowing around in the air. Further away, a small tree went down. Sand digging into her knees, Addison covered her nose and mouth with one hand and protected her head with another. Jake was in the same position. It became still after a minute and Addison stayed crouching, waiting, in case another one would follow.

Jake got to his feet, pulling Addison up with him. "You alright?" He asked, brushing sand off her hair and face.

"Yeah," she said dazedly. "I think we should head back to villa…check if the others are okay." Taking his hand, she began walking back towards their side of the beach.

"It was probably just a small earthquake. Happens here all the time" Jake assured her, but he himself wasn't fully convinced. He contemplated the strange behavior of the snakes and thought about the unnaturally fast rise of sea level as they walked along the beach, but decided against saying anything that might cause his wife to panic. He was intent on getting back to the villa; if anything worse should occur, Jake preferred all of them to be together.

* * *

The beach was unnaturally quiet when Charlotte ran outside. The tides were also unusually high, she noticed immediately and looking into the distance, she could not see a single person, let alone two. She bit her lip.

"They're not here," Violet said, gasping for breath. There was no time. Cooper had said they had twenty minutes to evacuate to higher ground and now, minutes later, she was still in front of the freakin' beach house, even closer to death than before, looking for two people that were not there. There was no more time.

"Well no shit, Sherlock," Charlotte snapped. "They're probably at the other beach." She started to walk towards the sea when Violet pulled her back.

Goddamn doctors with hero complexes. "Or they could be in town right now, going up a hill, evacuating along with_ everyone else that doesn't have a death wish!" _she shouted, dragging the blonde doctor towards the path to the resort. There was no more time.

Charlotte pulled against Violet's grasp, making the both of them come to a halt. "What if they're not?" She demanded. What if they're strollin' on the beach, completely clueless in post-marital bliss. And what would happen to Henry. Poor Henry. Charlotte didn't want to die, not yet anyway, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving two of her friends behind. Not when they had finally gotten their chance at happiness.

Yeah, what if they're not? A voice inside her asked but Violet ignored it because they were running out of time. Exasperated, she grabbed Charlotte's arm and tugged hard. She started running, making sure Charlotte was right behind, and that she did not loosen her grip.

"Stop!" Charlotte shouted. Violet turned around and Charlotte saw that she was crying. "What if we can save them?" Charlotte insisted, "If they die—"

"Then we'll live with that on our conscience every single day, Charlotte," Violet cut in. "And we might hate ourselves until the day we die, but at least our children will grow up having a mother." She refused to let Lucas become an orphan; she owed Pete that much. And what was Charlotte even thinking? Risking her life with four freakin' kids back at home. Cooper would never forgive her if she let Charlotte die, Violet thought, grabbing the blonde's shaky hands. "There's no time, we have to go."

They ran.

* * *

They were more than halfway across the public beach when Jake heard the strange sucking sound he very much dreaded. He turned to the sea and his heart sank, leapt, pounded and exploded at the same time. The water was rapidly receding. _God, tell me this is not happening. _His instincts told him to run like hell, but he seized Addison's shoulders and spun her around. "Addison, I'm going to tell you something and you cannot freak out. See that hotel over there?" He said quickly, pointing to the sturdy looking building a little less than a kilometer away. There were small bungalows and another building partially blocking it and it wasn't huge, but it was the most distinctive one. Addison's eyes darted to where his finger was pointing and nodded. "When I tell you, I need you to run there, as fast as you can, get in, and go up as high as possible. Got it?"

"Got it," Addison said nervously. She was a good runner. She would often use the treadmill to cool her frustrations, and she thought she was fast. However, she had no idea what was going on. Jake was usually so calm, so collected. Now, though no matter how hard he tried to mask it, there was alarm in his eyes.

The beach was eerily silent, the ominous kind, as Jake spoke, "A tsunami is coming, Addison. It could kill us all." Jake looked into her frightened eyes, for what might be the last time. "Run!"

Addison complied.

Jake looked over his shoulders to see a vast expansion of sand and mud. He began to sprint towards the hotel, hoping he'd made the right decision, hoping the building was strong enough, hoping they would make it. The sea was still retreating, buying them some time. Time they couldn't afford to lose.

* * *

Unbeknown to man, the sea floor abruptly deformed, the seabed lifting as the ground quaked, vertically displacing the overlying water from its equilibrium position. Under the influence of gravity, waves are formed as the displaced water mass attempted to regain its equilibrium. In open sea, the waves would look relatively small, with a height between half a meter and a meter. They are unnoticeable. Irrelevant. Quiet, fast. Traveling 700 kilometers per hour, in the deep sea the waves seemed harmless. Upon reaching the shore, mass destruction would occur. Nobody would have seen it coming.

* * *

"_A tree? _Are you fucking kidding me?We got all of these stuff and your smartest plan is to _climb a tree_ and hang on for dear life?" Amelia yelled, incredulous. They had been running for more than twenty minutes uphill, along with thousands of the island's occupants when Cooper had stopped in front of a large tree and suggested the three of them take shelter on top of it. It was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard.

It was difficult to hear her amidst all the commotion. That, and the thunderous roaring that Cooper hoped wasn't the tsunami. "There's no way in hell we are outrunning that wave!" He yelled back.

"Then lets get into, how about, I don't know, _a building?"_ Amelia screamed back at him. She looked around. There were several three-story concrete buildings. Maybe if they all climbed to the roof…

"This tree is clearly taller than everything else around here!" James shouted. Well… Except for the utility pole. He shuddered thinking about the chances of electricity being leaked into the water. He remembered that the girl at the store had told him the last tsunami was three stories tall and James didn't want to take any chances. He had no idea how they were going to climb that thing with two bags of necessities each, but it did seem like the best option to him.

"Open your fucking eyes!" Cooper shouted, turning to Amelia. "This is a third world country, do you _really _want to get crushed in one of its shitty infrastructure?" He dropped his bags and began climbing the pine tree.

James began to follow suit. He abandoned a bag and held the other in his mouth as he climbed. He really hoped that all the buildings and trees from the shore up until where they were would help lessen the impact of the wave when it finally hit them.

"Hey genius," Amelia called. "The wave will wash your bag away anyway so why don't you save yourself the trouble?"

"Shut the fuck up and get up here!" James screamed at her, dropping the bag. How does a person climb this thing, anyway? And he was supposed to hold on until it was over… _Cooper you fucking dumbass. _

Cooper had already made it to the top when Amelia began to climb.

"Fuck, I see it," Cooper yelled from above. He'd twisted his head towards the ocean when saw it. It didn't even look like a wave. It was a black wall that towered over houses and swept up boats, docks, piers, bungalows and every other thing unfortunate enough to get stuck in its path. He didn't know if his tree was taller than it was or not, he didn't know if they stood a chance. Minutes felt like hours. "Fuck, fuck, Amelia, hurry the fuck up!"

"Amelia!" James screeched. The young doctor himself was clambering up, trying to get as high as possible. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. The wind whipped against him but the tree did not budge. And James could definitely hear it. The roar sounded like a million trains. And it was coming towards them. His hands felt numb, wrapped around the tree bark. Please don't let go.

Amelia was halfway up the tree when Cooper started screaming. She blocked out all the noise as she focused on climbing. _You're not going to make it, _a voice inside her taunted. Oddly, it sounded like herself. _Fuck you, _she thought and inch-by-inch, Amelia climbed.

It's here, James thought desperately, looking down at his girlfriend. "Here, take my hand," he shouted, clinging with only a single arm and two legs. Amelia grabbed his free hand and with all the adrenaline running through him, he pulled her up and quickly scrambled up higher, making room for her.

There was no time for thanks. "Face the tree, you idiots!" Amelia screeched, hugging the pine securely. Cooper was staring at the approaching tsunami in both awe and sheer terror. If he continued like this when it hit, he'd end up blind or dead. "Cooper!" She shrieked again before she hid her face, closed her eyes and began to pray. _Dear God, _Amelia began. _Please let us all survive so we can continue to do good things. Addie isn't with me, so please make sure she stays safe. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen._

"Cooper!" James screamed. His throat was raw, but he did it anyway. Cooper was at about two feet higher than he was, even further away from Amelia and he wasn't sure if the doctor had heard her. "Your face! Cover your face!"

Startled, Cooper Freedman faced the tree trunk and bended his head. He was holding the damn tree so tightly he was sure his balls would be crushed by the time this nightmare ended. Balls or no balls, he closed his eyes and prayed to survive. He prayed that Charlotte, wherever she was, was going to be safe. They had a family to go home to. That was Cooper's last thought before the black wall crashed onto his back, the force of the debris it carried cutting and bruising his body. He cried out in agonizing pain as he willed himself to keep holding on.

Not a sound was heard from the other two.

* * *

Charlotte and Violet had reached the hotel pool, intending to go inside the hotel for safety when a loud, booming sound that rattled glass windows all around them caused the two women to turn around.

Charlotte screamed. They were steps away from the hotel lobby. She fastened her grip on Violet's arm and tried to drag the shrink to safety. When Violet would not move, Charlotte crouched down and covered her head with her hands, her arms blocking her chest in an attempt to protect herself from the worst injuries. _A raft, a roof, a tree, _she silently begged, _anything to keep me afloat. _She had a little boy and three baby girls waiting for her. She must not die. If God existed, now was His time to prove it.

Violet stood gaping at the sight before her. Instead of the ocean, all she saw was darkness. She knew what it was, but she'd never imagined it to look that empty. It was just black. An infinite blanket of darkness that contained god knows how many bone-crushing things, and it towered over her as it was coming towards the hotel. She remotely felt Charlotte try to pull her away, but she remained completely still, as if she were stuck in a trance. Violet had read and seen documentaries about Tsunamis before and they all basically say the same thing: If you can see the wave, you're too close to escape.


	3. Number One

This was really difficult to write, but a lot of fun as well. I was in Phuket, Thailand, during the Boxing Day Tsunami in 2004-it was what gave me the idea for this story-and while writing this chapter, I got to read a lot of articles and accounts of survivors, learning more in the process. I hope you enjoy this one. Thank you for all the kind reviews. x

* * *

Charlotte had always associated water with health and tranquility.

Health, for the more obvious reasons; water's one of the necessities of life. It was amazing, she thought, how a natural complexity like the human body is more than half water. It seemed like such a simple thing, yet it affects so many bodily functions that without it, no living organism can survive. Some even say that life originated due to the presence of water.

At the risk of sounding like a quack, Charlotte had also, more abstractly, related the idea of water to tranquility. Tranquility, for small, soothing waves that would gently leap at the shores, low whooshing sounds as foamy white tips touched sand like whispers of comfort. Peaceful, like the serene lake back at the ranch in Alabama, still, with the occasional ripple; Constant, like the tumbling waterfall, pillowed by rocks. The sound of water was healing; it had the ability to relax people into deep sleep—the utmost peaceful state. But when its balance and tranquility is threatened, like pent up emotions, calm waves become violet, tumultuous tides, unleashing its wrath upon the life it created.

She was not thinking those fancy thoughts with the monstrous wave hit, the sheer force of it throwing her backwards. At first it hurt, like being struck by solid objects on every part of her body, but soon, Charlotte stopped feeling physical pain; she just felt. She felt her back connect with something, a surface, maybe glass, her hands were still clasped around the back of her head protectively when the barrier broke, unable to withstand the pressure. Charlotte gasped for air only to gasp muddy water; debris and gritty sand filling her and she immediately gagged, her tears mixing with the water. She hit a wall as the entire restaurant was swept inland and she struggled to come up for air just as the roof of the restaurant was torn off, but quickly realized that her pants had caught on to something. She had been underwater for a minute or two now and she didn't dare open her eyes under the murky water to see what she was trapped to. There was a crushing sensation in her chest—probably her lungs— as she thrashed about and she knew if she didn't get air she wouldn't make it much longer.

Then, the thought of dying didn't seem so bad anymore. It was inevitable, anyway, and the pain would stop. Her body stilled as she relaxed into the idea of death. _I'm going to die. _Charlotte thought of Cooper. Wherever he was, she hoped that he was faring better than she was. Their children needed a parent. They needed him to live. Poor Mason cannot lose another parent. And _the girls, _they were so young. Their children needed Cooper. _He's a good man, _Charlotte thought as she began to see white light. He was best man she'd ever known. Cooper will live. Her vision became more light than dark and she felt as if weight were being lifted off her shoulders. She didn't know if she was becoming unconscious, or dying. _I'm sorry, Coop. I'm so sorry, I love you, _she repeated over and over in her mind as the crushing pain in her lungs lessened. She felt lighter and lighter when suddenly she heard the sound of a baby crying. _Georgia. Caroline. No, it sounded like Rachel. Rachel! _Startled, Charlotte inhaled sharply and her lungs filled with dirty water.

Her instincts kicked in, and Charlotte frantically pulled her pants off and kicked hard. The searing pain in her leg told her that it hadn't been only her pants that'd been pinned, and Charlotte screamed again underwater before finally emerging from the water. She coughed up water and debris before gulping for a breath of fresh air and bent her head backwards, blonde hair splayed in the water, her arms and legs paddling to stay afloat. She opened her eyes just in time to see the piece of broken wood in front of her. Her hand shot up and caught the wrecked object before it could strike her in the face and she cried out hoarsely in pain before pushing it out of her way.

_Where are the helicopters? Rescue boats?_

_Where the hell is everyone?_

_Violet. _

_Oh god, Violet, _she thought desperately as she remembered that Violet had been with her before the wave hit. She recalled that the psychiatrist had been fixated on the incoming wave. _She didn't even try to save herself. _ They had been together, though, so Violet couldn't be that far away from her. Where was she? Charlotte refused to accept the possibility that her friend might be dead. She had to find Violet.

"Violet!"

Charlotte looked around in both agony and confusion. In the dark, she spotted objects, fall trees, bodies, and building parts floating around in the dark-colored water, everything including herself still moving inland. Nothing looked like the crystal blue beach she had seen that day. She grabbed onto a tree and held on tightly, moving along with the current, twisting her head to look behind, her eyes slowly taking in the sight. It looked like something out of an apocalypse movie. Her pelvis came in contact with something hard and she yelped before moving around it. The pain in her leg was constant, and that made it bearable over time. She could still feel all parts of her body and that was a good thing. One arm around the tree, Charlotte used a free hand to remove the dirt and sand inside her ears. She'd heard the sound of an infant crying, she was sure it hadn't been in her head. She tried to look around but it was too difficult to see further than a couple of meters. Charlotte looked down. In the distance, she could hear a woman crying and someone else shouting names, but her eyes were transfixed on the severed head bobbing beside her.

It must have been ripped off of someone's body when the wave crashed. Water movements caused it to turn, displaying a mangled face. Both eyes were intact, frozen with terror and they stared straight at her. The rest of its face, however, was so mutilated that the mouth and nose could hardly be distinguished. Pieces of flesh were completely torn in some parts that across the face, there were patches of bone. Its eyes were fixed on her. Horrified, Charlotte screamed over and over again until no sound came out. Suddenly, her stomach contracted so violently, something warm and foul rising up her esophagus and she retched, that night's dinner mixed with dirt and stomach acid spewing out of her mouth. Bits of her vomit dribbled down her chin but most of it ended up in the water. Her already sore throat burned even worse as she dry-heaved, resting her head against the tree trunk as she clung onto it exhaustedly and tried to ignore the head that moved along next to her.

* * *

Cooper opened his eyes and became aware that the water had only reached his chest. The muddy water still boiled around, rushing past him, furiously sweeping things further inland but to his relief, the tree held its ground. He clung on tighter. The pain in his back stung, but it was tolerable. There were probably multiple cuts and gashes from all the garbage the wave carried, but he would tend to them later. His shirt had been ripped by the impact of the wave, leaving his back bare. Another pile of debris collided right into his back and he groaned loudly in pain. _Why isn't Amelia screaming her head off right now?_

_Shit. _It had been over two minutes. Cooper gazed downwards as he realized that the other two were completely submerged. _Fuck, fuck. _Panicking, Cooper slid down the tree, crying as the debris scraped his back and stopped he felt something solid underneath. _James. _He plunged his hand into the water, felt what could only be his colleague's hair and shoved his hand down deeper. Cooper grabbed what he thought was James' collar, and tugged hard, but gravity, among other things, were against him. James wouldn't move. _He's either unconscious, or dead. _Cooper pulled harder, without any result.

Suddenly, a shaky hand shot up from the water, inches away from his face and Cooper gave a startled yelp, letting go of James' shirt. Only half of the fingers were visible. If he hadn't been so close to the surface, he wouldn't have noticed it at all. They were small, pale, manicured fingers. "Amelia!" It had to be her. Cooper instantly reached into the water and seized her arm and her other hand grabbed his. Cooper pulled and Amelia's arms became visible, but the rest of her did not come up. He jerked harder as her fingernails dug into his hand. The water bubbled and splashed and it finally dawned on him that she was struggling. She couldn't come up. Something underneath was trapping her.

* * *

When the first wave struck, Violet instinctively shielded her face as something strong pushed her into a stone column. The last thing she could recall before blacking out was the intense pain of being crushed, underwater, with no means of escape.

* * *

Her first thought when the wave hit was that it must be a dream. This can't actually be happening. It only happened in the news. She was a world-class surgeon and things like this did not happen to people like her. Then, she rapidly realized it was very real, and that if she didn't get out of the water soon, she wouldn't survive. It was dark and loud. She didn't dare open her eyes, or let go of the tree. She tried to climb up, but James was in her way. Amelia tried hitting him but he still wouldn't move, when he should be scrambling up to safety. _He's dead, _her own voice said in her mind. _He's still hugging the tree, _she argued. _Like that means anything. He's dead, and you will be too. _

Her head continuously ached, she could feel her heart beat as her lungs screamed for air and Amelia let go of the tree and kicked, feeling the water sweeping her away, her hands over her head, grasping blindly for something to hold onto. She felt a hand grab hers and desperately clamped her other hand on the owner's arm. _Please, please, help me. _Her legs thrashed around wildly as she was pulled up and her head almost surfaced when something in the water currents pinned her abdomen and legs against the tree with a sickening crunch and she screamed again in agony, this time, opening her mouth and grimy water filled in. She struggled not to swallow it. She didn't know how long she would be able to hold her breath. She tried to use her feet to push the object off, but her legs wouldn't bend properly. Her arms were above the water, though, and her savior hadn't let go yet so she shook her arms as hard as she could and gripped the hand that was saving her, hoping they would understand.

No longer able to withstand the intense urge to breathe, Amelia started gulping water and her throat and tongue burned as sand and bits of concrete went inside. The pain, coupled with the feeling of being crushed intensified when suddenly, her savior removed her hands from his or her arms. _No, no, no, please no,_ she panicked. With her free hands, she began to push the thing, whatever the hell it was, off her and almost did when she ran out of energy and it fell back against her hand. It was too heavy, and she was feeling so lightheaded. The pain was beginning to stop when something brushed against her sides.

* * *

Cooper held his breath as he lowered himself into the water, one hand holding onto to James' body, for support. James did not move an inch, but he was still hugged tightly around the tree. Cooper could feel Amelia beside him, barely struggling, and when his feet quickly connected with a hard surface—what he hoped to be the top of what was trapping her—he gathered all the energy and adrenaline within him and using the weight of his lower body and feet, he forced it away, just enough so that he could grab Amelia's limp body with his hand, freeing her, and use the object as leverage to shoot towards air. He surfaced into a chunk of wood, which cut his forehead and tried to ignore the sharp pain.

Amelia subconsciously tried to use her free hand to push the flotsam away so that Cooper could get them both to higher ground. She succeeded, and Cooper let go of James and grabbed onto the roof of a bungalow. Amelia screamed as excruciating pain ran from her hand through her entire body and she went underwater. She came up after a few seconds with Cooper's help and she gagged, heaving, and spluttered out muddy water and grime. "I think my wrist is broken," she croaked before coughing out more water. She and Cooper were slowly being dragged inland, with Cooper clutching the roof with one hand and holding Amelia with the other.

"Can you use your other hand?" Cooper shouted. The adrenaline was wearing off and he didn't think he would be able to support the both of them for much longer. If he let go, they were done. They had to get on top of the roof.

"I think so!" Amelia reached for the edge of the roof and held on as tight as she could.

"I'll let go of you and climb. Ready?"

"Yeah." She wasn't so sure, but when Cooper let go of her and quickly pulled himself out of the water and onto the roof, she mustered all the energy she had left inside and tried not to let go. Her left arm, the one with the broken wrist, throbbed as she awkwardly held it above her head.

Cooper steadied himself on top of their makeshift raft and reached down for Amelia, grabbing her hand before she slipped away. "I need the other one!"

"No!" Amelia cried. _Just fucking haul me up._ Her left arm was still raised in the air. "My wrist—"

"It's broken, I know!" He yelled at her. He wasn't going to grab her injured hand, he wasn't a fucking surgeon but he wasn't _completely _stupid. It was safer to pull her up by both arms. "I need both of your arms!" Cooper was not going to risk dislocating her shoulder during this fucking catastrophe. They had enough to deal with already.

Oh. Amelia moved her left arm towards Cooper and winced as he grabbed her by the underarms, lifted her up in one swift motion and fell backwards onto the roof. He was still. Lifeless. _L__ike James. Oh god. James. _"Cooper!" She yelled, crawling towards him, her eyes prickling with tears.

"I'm fine," he panted and slowly sat up. His back and arm was covered in deep cuts and bruises and there was a gash on his forehead that was covered in blood. Okay, so he wasn't fine, but he was alive.

"You need to splint my wrist," Amelia said, breathing heavily as she stopped at the center of the roof. "Take your shirt off."

Cooper ripped whatever was left of his shirt and squeezed out as much liquid from it as possible before crawling towards the younger girl.

"It's not bleeding, thank god." _James didn't bleed as well. _In a freakish position that was a combination of lying down and sitting cross-legged, Amelia used her other hand to steady the left one. "Do it." She braced herself.

"It's going to hurt a little bit," Cooper warned.

"I'm not one of your dwarf patients, so just freaking do it, Cooper." _Or did he? _She would never know.

"_Okay," _Cooper snapped. He was just trying to be nice. Using his shirt, he started wrapping Amelia's entire hand as tight as he could, from her fingertips to her wrist, finally tying a knot while trying to ignore her screams. After he was done, he looked around. He guessed that the water had brought them a lot further inland, because what was left of their surroundings no longer looked familiar and he could no longer see the pine tree when he looked behind. The water was still rushing by, but their raft was still, having been stopped by a smaller building, one of the few that hadn't been completely demolished by the tsunami. The majority of the bottom floor had been washed away and water was racing through, under the building. The wall they were facing had also been torn off, and Cooper could see into the rooms inside the second and third floor.

"Hey," Amelia called hoarsely. "Thank you," she rasped when Cooper turned around.

He turned and looked at her closely for the first time since that night. Amelia was half sitting, half lying, her head resting on the higher tiles, her left arm resting across her forehead. There were multiple cuts on her face and her clothing had been partially ripped by the wave. There was mud everywhere. Her eyes were barely open. He didn't even want to think about her internal injuries, after recalling what had just happened. "Amelia, where does it hurt?"

_My heart. Everywhere else. _But she knew he was referring to her major injuries. "Stomach, pelvis, and downwards. Wrist. You?"

"Back and chest, just some cuts and bruises. And this handsome wound here, in the middle of my face."

She smiled a little at that. She sat up straighter. "D'you think there's going be another one?"

His expression clouded over. "I don't know. We should find somewhere safer to rest. Can you try walking?" Cooper was really worried now. If her lower-body injuries prevented her from moving, Amelia wouldn't survive a second wave. He stood up, wincing, and held out a hand towards her.

She grabbed it, getting on one knee and crying out in pain. She bit her lip and willed her other leg to move and she finally stood up, even though she felt as if her lower body was on fire. She'd never cared much about orthopedics but as a doctor, her self-diagnosis would be several bone fractures. Her tears washed away some of the dirt on her face. She took a few steps forward; trying to find a way to move that hurt the least. "I can walk." She gulped. "I don't think I can run or climb, though." She looked up at the structure before them. She didn't think it would be able to withstand another wave.

"We can try to walk inland and find help, or go up this building," Cooper said finally, weighing their options.

"The building wont make it." _We're stranded. We're going to die._

"Then we'll walk. Come on, let's go," Cooper urged, turning around. The murky water can't be higher than neck-level now that it has calmed a little.

_We're going to die. _When Amelia spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Or we can stay here and die."

Cooper snapped his head around to see the neurosurgeon staring into nothing. Shills rose in him and he shivered when she continued expressionlessly, her blank eyes staring straight ahead.

"Like James."

* * *

When Jake reached the hotel, he scrambled inside and immediately headed over to the reception area. Hotel staff were screaming, fighting each other for the entrance to the fire exit. A man pushed past him, running out of the building. "Addison!" He yelled, looking around, trying to find red hair amid the chaos. When he got to the front desk, he clambered up the counter and looked down, searching for his wife. "Addison!"

Some people were rooted to the spot, terrified, as they saw the giant wave drawing closer. Once he was sure that Addison wasn't in the crowd, he jumped off the desk, apologizing as he knocked into a man. "Run!" He yelled at nobody in particular as he rushed to the fire exit. The rumbling sound of the approaching wave shattered the glass windows of the souvenir store and small objects were knocked from their spots. More screams. The black man in front of him, a security guard, dropped down to his knees and began to pray. Jake harshly pulled the man up. "Come!" He shouted and hurried up the stairs. After a few seconds, the guard ran after him.

Jake had barely reached the second floor when the building vibrated, and he heard what sounded like an explosion. The first wave had hit. They didn't have much time.

He clambered up the stairs as fast as he could, hoping he'd done the right thing, that he'd picked the right building. He hoped it wouldn't collapse, or be washed away by the wave. "How many floors does this place have?" He shouted at the guard who was trying his best catching up with him. The hotel was large, albeit not very tall. The water had got into the small fire exit at some point, because as they ran, he could hear not only the sounds and echoes of footsteps that preceded him, but also rushing water. He didn't dare look behind.

"Six!" The guard yelled back. "Pool top floor!"

He saw Addison alone at the third floor, struggling to open the door. Shouts and screams were heard from above them as a small crowd of ten people fought to get to the roof. The muddy water was rapidly rising. He could no longer see the steps leading from the second floor. "Addison!" He rushed to her side as the security guard ran past him.

"There are people behind the door! I can hear them!" Addison yelled as she hopelessly threw herself against the door handles, trying to push it open. It wouldn't budge. "Don't just stand there, help me!" She tried again. She was in hysterics. Water came up to their ankles as Addison rammed her shoulder into the door repeatedly.

She was hurting herself. "Sweetheart, we have to go!" He pleaded, grabbing her arm. They were knee-deep in water now. "Fuck!" Jake swore as a piece of broken glass cut his leg. _Goddamnit, Addison…_ When she made no move to leave, he started helping her push the door. It flew open just as the water got up to his waist. He pulled her into the hallway, where twenty frightened hotel guests stood as the water gushed into the room. They were immediately bombarded with questions.

"What's happening?" About a dozen people yelled.

"What on earth is going on?" A bald man demanded. He had a thick European accent.

"I heard a bomb go off! Is this a terrorist attack?"

A child stood crying.

"_Stop!" _Jake bellowed. More water was pouring into the hallway. "All of you_—shut up!"_

Silence. All of them were ankle-deep in water.

"Tsunami," Addison said shortly, answering everyone's question. The room erupted with noise again as she rushed to the small balcony at the end of the hall. If she'd heard right, tsunamis don't come in single waves.

"Oh my god, oh my god," a middle-aged woman started to chant, walking around as a man wrapped his arms around her.

"Shit, shit, what do we do?" A young man, clad in only a pair of boxers, yelled and ran towards the balcony, joining Addison. He stared as he saw the water receding.

The European grabbed his girlfriend and darted to the fire exit, intent on going up to the roof.

Two people ran to their separate rooms.

Crying.

"For gods sake somebody pick that child up," Jake yelled. "There are _glass shards _and god knows what else in the water." He stuck his head around the fire exit door. They could still go higher. They had a better chance of survival on the topmost floor. They needed to go.

He was about to yell for Addison when he heard a loud blast and instinctively dived away as the two men and the girl next to him fell through the floor.

Screams.

"Annie!"

"The restaurant!" The middle-aged woman screamed. "The restaurant exploded!"

"What?"

_They use gas stoves, _Jake's eyes widened in realization and bolted towards the balcony where Addison stood staring out the window. "Gas! Run!"

Another gas cylinder exploded, and the wall between the hallway and the fire exit started to crack. If it collapsed, it would bring down the upper floors and the rest of the building as well.

Screams.

"Holy shit," the man in boxers stammered. There was another one?

"Jake!" Addison screeched, turning around, unaware that her husband was already next to her. She'd been completely taken by the sight of the second wave quickly approaching them. She couldn't take her eyes off it, it were as if she was being hypnotized. It just seemed unrealistic. Some giant black wall that swept things up. If she were slightly more morbid, she would have laughed at the thought. She felt Jake grab her hand and turned to him with horror-filled eyes. "It's coming!"

It was. As it got nearer, Jake could see it smash a boat into a bungalow, turning it into scrap, and swept everything up—beds, tables, refrigerators, from furniture to trees to vehicles, it took everything and headed towards them. He felt paralyzed.

"_What is happening?" _A mother shrieked, holding her crying child against her chest.

"We have to jump," Jake said, as the horrible truth dawned on him. It was their only shot at survival. Their incredibly small shot. The building was crumbling down, another wave was approaching… he had made a colossal mistake in leading Addison into this hotel.

"We have to jump!" The guy in boxers repeated loudly and climbed onto the balcony railing. He prepared himself for death.

"No! Don't jump now, you moron!" The husband of the middle-aged woman shouted.

"Jake! Let's go," Addison shouted, trying to pull him back into the building.

"No, the building's caving in, we have to get out of here!" Jake yelled back, holding her back.

"No!" the mother wailed, curling up into a ball on the floor. Her toddler cried as he held onto his mother.

Addison let go. "If we go to the side, it'll lessen the impact!" She shouted, running to an open room a few doors away from the balcony. A few of the guests followed her lead, going into their rooms as well. The rest were frozen by fear. She opened the windows and waited for her husband to join her. The wind blew hair into her eyes.

"We shouldn't have come here!" Jake shouted as reached her side. There were tears in his eyes. They were going to die and it was his fault. "Fuck." He grabbed her hand. "Addison, I'm so sorry."

The sound it made was thunderous and it only got louder and louder.

"We're not going to die!" She yelled at him. Addison refused to cry. They were going to survive this together, because anything less was unacceptable. They were going to live, go home to Henry, work at the practice and grow old together. They had to live. _For better or for worse,_ she could hear Jake say. _In sickness and in—_

A woman screamed.

"Joanne, shut the fuck up!" A male voice said.

"When it comes, jump and grab something. A roof, a tree, anything that floats!" Jake told Addison.

"Together!" They weren't going to die and they weren't getting separated. Jake looked at her like he thought she was crazy.

"What?"

"When you see it, just tell me what to hang onto and we'll jump together!" She shouted back. "The water should be high enough, making it easier, right?"

He stared. Did she think objects would leisurely float by their window? His wife was fucking insane.

"Jake!" She screamed and clutched his hand tighter as the building began to shake. She didn't see the first wave coming when it hit, but now, it looked and felt like the sky was falling. It scared her more than anything. "Tell me before you jump, okay?"

"Okay!" He yelled back. "We're not going to die," he assured her, forcing a small smile. His heart ached as they stood on the window sill, anticipating the next wave. _A roof. A tree. _

"Promise not to leave me."

Somehow, that brought back memories of their wedding day_. _Addison had looked so beautiful that evening she had literally taken his breath away. He remembered inhaling sharply when he'd caught sight of her that day. Addison had always been beautiful. She was beautiful. But in that moment, something had felt different. Seeing her at their wedding, dressed up in grey instead of white, he'd felt like he had been waiting for her, for that day, for all his life and having it finally happen had felt amazing, complete and breathtakingly real. When she'd reached the altar, he'd pulled her in for a kiss even before they had begun to say any of their vows. It had been spontaneous, very unconventional and unlike his traditional self, but the way her eyes twinkled after they'd pulled apart had made it feel okay. His eyes watered as he recalled their wedding vows. _To love, honor, and cherish. _

The wind started gust violently and Addison's right hand shot up, gripping the edges of the window as Jake's left grasped for concrete. Her eyes darted to her right. She knew that when the wave hit, she would be flung to the side. "Don't let go!" She turned to her husband with frightened eyes, yelling. Pleading. She could barely hear herself.

"I'll try my best!" He shouted above the rustling. He could hear the familiar roar—it sounded like a thousand sirens—grow louder.

She squeezed his hand.

_For as long as we both shall live. _

* * *

What did you think?


	4. Broken Mothers

The water stopped moving. Inauspicious stillness. Apart from the distant wailing and the occasional creak and bang, the place was completely silent. The murky brown water was no longer swirling, or forcing itself inland. It was…calm. The battered boat, scrap metals, trees, wood, mattresses, and_ bodies _seemed to be just floating peacefully. The scene before him was a quiet, a motionless wreck: the aftermath of a catastrophe. It was too quiet. Too still.

"It's—It's over," Amelia breathed, and her glossy eyes showed a brief glimmer of hope. Taking in the disastrous surroundings, a feeling of suspicious dread overcame her. Then, there was a small rustle of wind. A coconut fell into the water with a plop, joining the litter of lifeless things in the water. "It's coming."

"Get up, we have to go." Cooper's eyes darted around. The boat was too far away. The tree was out of the question.

Amelia staggered to her feet, using her elbows to steady herself, gasping at the jolting pain in her right thigh downwards. She walked unsteadily to him, making sure not to fall off the sloped roof. Cooper was holding onto a column of the wrecked building, standing dangerously on the edge of the roof. His back was turned to her.

"I can see land. The buildings there look intact." Closer, he could also see a giant shark, skewered to a pole, a group of people on the beach, huddled around something, and a fishing boat on top of a hut. "We're not that far away. Come on."

Using the roof, concrete and each other as support, they lowered themselves into the disturbingly calm water and slowly maneuvered around the floaters.

The sight of sand, people, and safety gave Amelia some sense of optimism as she followed Cooper who navigated through the water. The muddy pool reeked of salt, dirt, death and decomposition and her body felt like pins and needles were poking into her over and over again, but the idea of survival kept her going.

"Ah!" Cooper yelled. His foot had trod on something sharp beneath the water and there was a small splash when Amelia jerked in surprise, kneeing another object in the process. Her hoarse scream attracted the attention of some of the people inland and Cooper kept walking. The people stared. "Careful."

_A bit too late, huh, Coop? _"Okay." She grabbed his bare arm as they slowly made their way inland. "I'm slowing you down."

"You're are." _You're hurt. _Whatever was in his foot dug in deeper, and his stomach tightened, but it felt painless compared to how the wind was whipping onto the lacerations on his back.

"I'm sorry." She winced as the rocks underneath her feet sent a shooting pain up her entire body. _Nearly there, Amelia, hold on. _She had a closer look at Cooper's back now, her tired eyes widening as she realized how terrible her friend's injuries actually were. Cooper must not have realized it, but his bare back looked like a freaking battlefield. Small cuts and scrapes scattered all over it, which was expected, of course. Near his left shoulder was a large patch of dark red, and the skin that had been partially torn off was hanging from the wound. There were multiple dirt-filled gashes. Where there wasn't blood, there was dirt. What alarmed her was the wound near his upper ribcage; the cut was so deep that the ivory of his bone was visible. Either Cooper was numb, high, or his tolerance to pain was unbelievable. Concerned, Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but then decided against it. They were almost there.

Two men from the group ran towards them, shouting in a language he did not understand. The rest of the group started dashing inland. Cooper didn't have to look down. He felt it. The water was retreating back into the ocean, fast, pulling bits and pieces of debris and even parts of houses with it. "Amelia!" Cooper grabbed the thin concrete pillar to his left and held on tightly, his head snapping around when he felt her release her grip on his arm. He reached blindly for her but it was too late.

* * *

The first thing she woke up to was the taste of dusty water in her mouth and the feeling of being suffocated. The water had changed direction or something but suddenly, whatever was trapping her had been moved away along with it. Hands and feet thrashed and suddenly her head was above water. Violet gulped a breath of air when the strong current grabbed and pulled her underwater again. Subconsciously aware that she was about to drown, she fought against the force and struggled to stay above the water.

At one point, she saw people standing on the roof of a building partially submerged underwater. A Caucasian man was standing closest to the edge, right next to her and Violet threw her arms up and he caught her hand before the water pulled her further away from the island. She looked up to him, her panicked eyes pleading. "Please!" Violet choked. "Please hang on!" Even as she pleaded, she could feel her hands slipping away. The current was too strong and he had to let go to avoid being pulled into the water. The last thing she remembered before drowning was frantic cries from the roof and the man's shell-shocked eyes.

* * *

When the wave had died, the remaining water washed her onto a pile of debris on the beach. The doctor immediately let go of her life raft and fell to the ground, barely feeling anything. She dry-heaved and lay there for a while, gravel and wood fragments digging into the side of her face and body. Her senses were dulled but the cool wind reminded her that her lower body was completely stripped of any clothing. Her shirt was tattered and torn, but her brassiere was still intact. Slowly, she got up on her knees and elbows, trying to find a safer place to rest. Meters away, she could see a woman on her knees, shrieking under a concrete arch that once had been a building, clutching a bundled object. _Her baby, _Charlotte thought. It must have been the baby's cries that she'd heard from under the water. Nearby, a few feet of wreckage had piled around a palm tree. A man, probably a local, was standing on that pile, trying to climb the tree.

She made here way towards the tree, half walking, and half crawling over the pieces of boats, roofs, bicycles and crushed stone. The man pointed at her and shouted something she could not understand. She knew she was half naked, and her leg looked like half of its skin had been torn off, but there was no time for shyness. When she finally made it up to the palm tree, the man was gone. She sat down on top of a piece of wood and inspected herself. By that time, her body had gone into euphoric shock and she hardly felt any pain. However, looking down, she discovered that the skin covering half her right leg, from her ankles up to her knees, had been completely ripped off. The bleeding was subdued but red flesh stared back at her. The first thing she thought was how grateful she was that she'd gotten all her recommended vaccine shots. Her right ankle was unnaturally curved and swollen; it was probably broken, she decided. The insides of her arm were indented, from the pressure of holding onto the tree trunk. She couldn't see properly but she suspected that she had at least a few splinters there as well. Her right palm was a bloody mess. Her exposed thighs were bruised. She didn't want to think about her internal injuries. Then, the wood under her gave out as the muddy water began receding. Her back scraped against the tree. _I have to get out of here._

Charlotte grabbed the tree with her left hand and stood up shakily. She took off what was left of her shirt and tied the sleeves around her waist, trying to cover her pelvic area. She began to turn towards the island when she heard it.

"Charlotte."

* * *

_No, no, no. Please no. _Amelia slipped and fell into the water, crying as her fractured bones collided with a hard surface. The water was dragging her out to the sea, and the surgeon struggled to get back on her feet before giving up and letting the force of the ocean take her. She had a broken wrist and a lower body that hurt whenever she moved. There was no way she was getting out of this. _I'm going to die. _The odds were against her and she didn't want to fight any longer. She went under the water, almost blacking out from the agonizing pain when suddenly two arms pulled her back up and she shuddered as she felt herself be carried towards land. _Safety. _She could hear people yelling, in French or God knows what language, she'd have to ask Addie. Oh god. Addison. Where is Addison? More shouting. _Why did I take Spanish in high school? _The arms carrying her didn't do any good for her injuries. She hurt all over. _Mother fuckers. _"No parles francais. English. Mon ami. Cooper?" She croaked. _I should've chosen French._

* * *

The brunette was barely breathing when Charlotte got to her. Upon seeing the bloody fountain that was Violet's torso, she took off the shirt around her waist and held it against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. She heard a crunch. _Damn it. No, no… _Violet's fractured ribs were crushed, and the bleeding worsened. Glossy eyed and breathing softly, Violet didn't even whimper. "Violet!"

She thought she was floating. On air, but she couldn't see the clouds. Maybe she was in the horizon. That was where Pete was. Maybe she was there too. Violet could barely see anything but she felt light and blissfully _happy. _She could faintly hear Charlotte calling her name.

"Violet Turner, don't you dare die on me!" Charlotte was covered in blood and the ground beneath them was slowly changing from a muddy brown color to dark red as the liquid seeped. "Violet!" She called again. Charlotte saw a plastic door nearby and hobbled over to it. She pushed her friend onto the makeshift stretcher, pain searing in her right hand, and tried to pull it inland. "I—can't." Her eyes watered as she tried to tug harder. "Damn it!"

"Char—lotte," Violet breathed, reaching for the blonde doctor's hand. "Stop."She wanted to go to the horizon, where things were better. Where Charlotte didn't cry and where love might be forever.

"No! You have to fight—for Lucas—you can't give up, I'll bring you to the hospital, just stay awake—oh god, Violet, if you die, Cooper will never forgive me."

Violet smiled and stroked her friend's hands. Everything was going to be okay. She wasn't hurt, she felt completely numb, and was going to be okay. "Lucas," she whispered. "Cooper, Lucas, Char…Pete…Tell Lucas…I love…Mommy, daddy," she managed to choke out before slipping into unconsciousness. _I'm so sorry, Pete._

* * *

Eventually, she limped away to higher ground where the woman with the baby was still kneeling. Her bloody hands clutched her blood-soaked shirt and it dripped, making a trail as she walked… _a trail of Violet's blood._ _You killed her. You killed Violet. You killed your husband's best friend. _The image of Violet's bloody, smiling corpse and her last words that barely made any sense haunted every step she took. _Cooper._ The wails got louder and louder and Charlotte had never been so happy to see a dead baby and its broken mother.

* * *

"I'm here, Amelia, I'm right here," Cooper yelled, trying his best to catch up. Whatever it was in his foot dug in deeper and he almost fell over. _Son of a…_But there was no time for that crap. He didn't know what the two strangers were rattling on about but their body language, and the actions of the other people in the group told him everything he needed to know. Another one was coming. He would deal with his feet later. Finally, he reached them, coming to a stop in a hotel that was slightly higher above ground. It looked intact and from the noise coming from inside, he figured that it was where some of the other survivors were taking refuge. "Do you speak English?" He shouted at the two young men carrying Amelia.

"A bit of English," one of them yelled back. "Your friend?" He asked, looking at the girl in his arms.

"Yes. Thank you!"

"Go inside!" The young man yelled, beckoning him to follow them.

Cooper made his way through the crowd, careful not to lose the two strangers carrying Amelia. He followed them up to the second floor, his body screaming as he betrayed it, where people sat on the floor, crying or asking looking for their friends and family. Charlotte and his friends weren't one of them. He didn't recognize anyone there. The two generous men hauled a barely lucid Amelia into one of the rooms where a woman stood nervously over three injured people on mattresses. Cooper moved as fast as he could to the other side of the bed. He had to see the faces of the people. _Please, please… _One of the wounded was a pregnant woman with cuts and scrapes all over her entire face and arm, she was tearful and shaking, asking the woman to save her baby. She was definitely not Charlotte. The other two were men; an Asian man, naked except for the cloth thrown over his waist, with a metal rod sticking out of his shoulder, struggling to stay conscious and a Caucasian man who was foaming at the mouth, his wild eyes dancing. There was crusty vomit all over the front of his shirt. The men placed Amelia next to the Caucasian man and Cooper rushed back to her side, thanking them over and over again. One of the men gave him a tired smile and nodded before both rushed off, muttering in their own language. "Amelia! Amelia, can you hear me?"

"Smells… nasty," Amelia coughed, trying to sit up. She fell back against the mattress in defeat but turned to the man next to her disgustedly. "Hey! Do you speak English?" She asked him, her fingers finding his neck where she tried to feel for his pulse. The man attempted to nod. "His heart rate's fine," she said to Cooper, before twisting to the other side and gagging, coughing out sand and muddy water. The stench was appalling.

"Why didn't you turn him over?" Cooper asked the shaken woman, who seemed to be treating the pregnant woman's minor injuries, before grabbing the man who was drowning in his own fluids and turning his head down. The man coughed out pink froth, water and debris before collapsing sideways onto the mattress. Cooper slapped him gently. "Do you know where you are?"

"Beach," the man managed to wheeze out.

"What is your name?"

"Ben. Whitman," he choked.

"Okay, okay, you need to relax and we'll try to get you to a hospital soon, okay?" Cooper soothed.

The woman administering first aid handed Cooper some towels. "To keep him warm," she uttered quickly and moved to the Asian man.

Cooper tried to bundle Ben with the towels. "Try not to sleep, okay?"

"Keep him awake!" Amelia shouted. Her voice cracked from dehydration, but the throbbing in her lower body was almost bearable, now that she was still, so it was okay. She was okay. She kept her left hand, the one with the splintered wrist across her forehead. "The Asian. If he sleeps, he'll die."

Cooper didn't know what the other woman did, but when he finally sat down in the small space between Amelia and Ben, the intensity of the pain on his back hit him. Gasping, he called for Amelia. "What's—How—how bad is it?"

She debated internally for a while before answering. She didn't want Cooper to freak out, but he also needed to know, so that he could get proper medical attention instead of worrying about her and other people. "There's skin barely attached, and I see a bit of bone upper right side of your ribcage. I'm too tired to stand. Get—get me some clean water and cloth and I'll do what I can. You need to get to a hospital."

"There's bottled water in the next room. Clean towel in the bathroom," the woman said. "Stay." She ran off.

"Hey, you! Do you speak English?" Amelia yelled, trying to get the Asian's attention.

Cooper turned. The poor man's eyes were rolling back into his head as he shuddered violently. "He's not going to make it." The woman came back, holding several bottles of water and a towel. She threw the bottles onto the floor and handed the towel to Cooper. "Thank you," he told her. He grabbed one bottle off the floor, uncapped and handed it over to Amelia, who was slightly sitting, using her elbow to support herself. She took it and the small towel from him. "What's your name?" He asked the woman in front of him. A man carried a child into the room.

"Elle." The blonde turned to the man with the child. "What's wrong with her?"

"She—she's my daughter. Someone found her on the shore," he said dejectedly. "She won't wake up."

"Dude, open your eyes—eyes!" Amelia kept shouting at the man with the metal pole protruding from his shoulder. "Hey!"

Cooper screamed as Amelia poured water on the wound on his shoulder, trying to irrigate debris inside the wound. The adrenaline rush had somewhat numbed his senses, but now, although the bleeding has stopped, he felt exposed and vulnerable. Her fingers gently rubbed the area, trying to clean it to prevent infection and it stung so badly that Cooper had unknowingly clutched the man's—Ben Whitman—leg to stop himself from screaming again. Ben yelled. _At least that will keep him awake. _Cooper tried to focus on the little girl, whom Elle was trying to perform CPR on. His heart ached at the sight. The girl looked about six or seven years old and she was completely still. Her entire body was turning a bluish grey tint, her clothes had been completely torn off of her—she'd probably been swept away by the first wave. "How—how long has she been out?" Cooper asked the father, trying to distract himself from the pain.

"I—I don't know, more than thirty minutes," he fumbled. "Oh god. She's dead, isn't she?" He clasped his hands over his mouth and broke down into silent sobs as Elle persisted with her administration.

She's dead. The little girl is dead. The bloated people floating in the water are dead. James is dead. Who else are dead? "Could you—could you get me some soap in that bathroom?" Amelia asked the man. He didn't seem to hear her.

He didn't blame the man. He'd just lost someone he loved. _Would that be me?_ "I'll… I'll go," Cooper said, trying to stand, groaning in pain. "My feet," he gasped.

"Sit the fuck down," Amelia growled, grabbing his shoulders. She was already getting cramps from her position. She wanted to just hurry the fuck up and get all the dirty infectious shit out of Cooper so that she could lie down.

Elle stood up straighter and looked at the devastated father dejectedly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching out to touch him but pulled back hesitantly. _Let him mourn._ She scurried to the bathroom and to get the lady a bar of soap instead. After handing it over, she knelt down and inspected the man's feet, which was bleeding onto the floor. "You have a nail stuck in your feet—uh, Mister…"

"Cooper. Fuck, fuck, fuck…" the pediatrician swore. _Seriously? A fucking nail?_

He'd been running with _a nail _embedded in his foot. Amelia shuddered. "Cooper… When was your last tetanus shot?"

* * *

She wasn't even injured, yet she was as still and silent as a rock. "The water's pulling away, we have to go!" Charlotte screamed hoarsely at the stranger as she struggled to stand on one and a half leg. It had been a couple of minutes now and the woman still refused to leave.

She'd found her sister pinned between concrete, and she'd heard a sound of a baby crying. The cloth he was wrapped in had been soaked with blood, and before she could do anything, he'd become still. She'd pulled him out and tried to rub his back, to sooth him, telling him between sobs that everything would be okay, that Auntie Leah was here. Then this woman came crawling towards her like something out of a horror movie and she'd been scared out of her mind but apparently the stranger was trying to get her to leave, before another wave came. "Why are you helping me?"

"Your child saved my life. She'd want you to live too," Charlotte briefly explained, clutching the woman's shoulders for support. They both stared at the retreating water.

"He. His name is Michael." She didn't bother correcting that Michael wasn't her child. She loved him like he was her own. Leah didn't know what the woman meant when she'd said Michael had saved her, but looking down, Leah saw that the blonde woman was badly injured and there was no way she would make it up the hill on her own. She'd failed Michael, failed Dawn, but this woman needed her help.

"Michael would want you to live. We need to go, please," Charlotte begged. The pain in her right leg was becoming excruciating and she didn't know how long she'd be able to force her eyes open. "Please."

"Okay." Leah kissed her nephew and gently laid him down on the ground.

_What on earth is she—_

"We have a better chance of living if both my hands are free. He will be fine. His mother will protect him." Leah put the woman's arms around her shoulder and led her towards the back of the house. "Let's go."

* * *

"Too long ago," Cooper grimaced as Amelia began rubbing at his exposed flesh again. If he didn't die of pain, some shitty bacterial disease from the probably rusty nail in his foot was bound to kill him. He wanted to scream, but he let his mind wander to better things like his children, and his wife…Char, his beautiful, amazing Charlotte. He wondered where she was. He hoped to God that his wife was safe, that she had someone to help and accompany her, and that he would see her soon. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the floor seemed to shake. The voices outside the room grew louder. _The second wave, _Cooper realized. He cried out in pain. Amelia had apparently begun to clean his _other _wound—the one in his sides with bone poking out.

A tall, lanky man walked into the room. "I need your names," he spoke, with a Cockney accent.

"Mary-Anne Faras," the pregnant lady said shakily. "I—I think my husband is dead."

"Elle Conrad."

"Amelia Shepherd."

"Cooper Freedman."

"Ben Whitman."

"Sir?" The man asked, looking pointedly at the father who was now slumped against the wall.

"An—Andrew. Andrew White," he stammered.

"Thank you—"

"Hey, excuse me, is there a Charlotte King-Freedman on that list?" Cooper called before the tall man could leave the room. The man turned around. He looked down at his list. "Charlotte King-Freedman, Jake and Addison Reilly, Violet Turner, and James Petersen," Cooper listed.

"No… But I haven't gone through the entire building. A complete list of everyone at this hotel should be posted on the third floor in a few hours," the man said.

"Sarah Whitman! Is she there?"

The man searched for a few seconds and shook his head, a sympathetic look on his face. "I'm sorry—"

Ben heaved.

"What time is it?" Elle asked as she moved to find another clean towel.

"Almost two in the morning."

"Is anyone able to call for an ambulance?" Amelia yelled. She was trying her best to be gentle, but it was hard when there were so many bits and pieces of sand and dirt everywhere. "My bones are broken and everyone here needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible."

"One just left for the hospital. It'll be back in thirty to forty minutes. We're prioritizing those in critical condition first."

"This man has got a freaking pole in his shoulder, I can barely sit up. My friend has nail in his foot that will murder his nervous system and a wound so deep his goddamn _bones _are poking out. _She's_ pregnant and we're all going to die of hypothermia soon. So it's critical," Amelia shouted, pouring more water into the towel. "And trust me, I'm a doctor," she snarled.

"I—"

"Get us on the next ambulance. Please," she breathed, looking straight at him.

Cooper gritted his teeth and shivered as the pain spread from his back up to his head. _Good God. _

"Okay." The man turned to leave.

"Are we safe here?" Elle asked. She tried to help the doctor clean her friend's head wound.

"For now," he said gravely, before excusing himself out of the room. He was trying his best to keep calm and detached. There was flooding on the ground floor lobby—a battered car had crashed through the glass doors and lodged itself right into the front desk—and electricity and water supply had been cut, but everyone was mostly unharmed. The hotel was too far inland, with many buildings and obstacles between it and the ocean, so it was rather well guarded and has become some sort of shelter. He had been checking in when the first wave hit the island. The owners, along with a few staff and guests had fled to higher ground hours ago, leaving him to take charge of the mass of frightened foreigners. He knew that sometimes it took days until news of natural disaster spread to other countries so he'd gathered a small group of volunteers to scavenge the hotel for food and bottled water and look for injured people, and took charge of head counting and reuniting families. The tsunami not only uprooted trees and tore structures from the ground, it tore families apart, and to him, that was the worst part.

* * *

"The roof!" She'd heard him call as she saw a roof from some other bungalow pass them. She'd been right, the water was almost level to where they were. Addison jumped. It felt like it was happening in slow motion. Mid-air, she panicked as she realized she'd let go of Jake's hand. She couldn't see where he was. A jolt of pain rushed through her as she hit the water, but Addison was able to grab onto the edge of the roof and she clung on tightly as the power of the water brought wood, trees, vehicles and other garbage onto her pelvis, over and over again. The pain was unbearable, but her hands were somehow frozen, grasped tightly, refusing to let go. _It's going to tear me in half, _Addison thought. She'd never experience that amount of agony before and for a second, she felt tempted to just let go, let the water and everything in it crush her, just so that the pain would stop.

"Addison!" Sprawled across the same roof, Jake yelled for his wife as he let his body ride out the wave—no pun intended—of pain and crushing sensation in his chest. He'd landed on the roof facedown and immediately felt the wind knocked out of him. He had almost passed out when he heard her scream pierce through the air. And she'd just kept on screaming at the top of her lungs, never stopped even when her throat became raw. He had never heard such a horrible sound before—and he was an OB/GYN. The wind was still blowing harshly, the currents going strong, but he crawled towards the sound as fast as he could, while trying not to get knocked off the roof. Jake got on his knees and reached into the water for her arms. She was still screaming and twitching when he pulled her out of the water and into his arms, falling backwards as she collapsed onto him. It was a soft impact. The shooting pain in his chest seemed distant as Addison screeched into his ears. Not once did she stop screaming. _Something's wrong. _He was terrified. "Addison, can you hear me?" he called, rubbing her back. "Baby, it's okay, I got you." Her cries turned into whimpers and she shuddered before rolling off of him, onto her back and crying out in pain again. "Addison!" He scrambled towards her.

She didn't even know she had been screaming before, until she fell backwards and felt her throat burn when she yelped. Addison stared at the sky. Someone was calling her name, over and over. It was scarcely audible as the pain in her pelvic region overcame her and she started screaming again as tears ran down her face. It was dark, and her vision was blurry, so when everything became black, she didn't know if she was passing out because of the pain, or if she was just seeing nighttime.

* * *

Reviews are greatly appreciated. James isn't dead. That's all I'm saying. I hope you liked this one.


	5. Limbo

"Red, your love life is cursed."

Bizzy snickered and tipped her champagne flute, letting the wine in it pool onto the hardwood floors. Whoever picked out the wine had absolutely no taste at all.

"You dated an intern and both of you died—you're not exactly the poster boy for happily ever after… just sayin'," Pete drawled.

"I only talk to real doctors… just sayin'," the surgeon mocked.

"You know what? You're an asshole. I went to medical school except unlike you, I wanted to do something more than make people pretty so you can shove that —"

"Boys!" Vivian warned, cutting Pete off. Mark wilted upon her gaze.

Bizzy leaned against the white walls, arms crossed, as she stared at her daughter who was sitting on the ground, looking up at all of them in perplexity. "Addison, Dear, why the silence?"

The room was—pardon her choice of words—deathly silent. Looking around, Addison could see that it was one of the guestrooms at her childhood home in Connecticut, without the furniture. White wallpaper, Wenge wood floors. The scene was familiar. The _company, _however… "You're dead. All of you," she stated bluntly and cautiously got up. All eyes were on her.

"That's mean, Addie, even for you," Mark finally spoke, clutching his heart in an attempt at feigning hurt. He took a step towards her and held out his arms. "Come here."

Addison felt her eyes prickle with tears as she ran towards him and felt herself enveloped in his hug. "God, Mark," she muttered into his chest. "I've missed you."

"He said you were cursed and _he _gets a hug?" Pete complained, but his face broke into a grin when he heard Addison laugh as she let go of the plastic surgeon and made her way over to him.

"My favorite quack," Addison smiled, leaning in as Pete gave her a quick kiss on her temple. She breathed in his scent; it was one she knew really well. A wave of nostalgia suddenly hit her and she turned to her mother and mentor; both impeccably dressed, Addison struggled to stay levelheaded and stop her emotions from overflowing. "Bizzy… Vivian… not that I'm not glad to see you all, but, what am I doing here?"

Pete and Mark exchanged glances. They all became very quiet. Vivian gave her a sympathetic gaze.

"Tell me I'm not dead," Addison pressed, then saw Bizzy's pointed look. She couldn't be. What would Henry do without her? And Jake… Oh God, Jake… Everything came crashing upon her all at once. The wedding. Her happily ever after. Jake proposing an after-party in Fiji. The beach villa. The tsunami. They had been so happy. Mark was right, her love life _was _cursed. And here she was, in a room filled with ghosts. There was only one logical explanation. Addison groaned. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

* * *

From somewhere she couldn't see, Charlotte heard a man shout, "Hang on, there's another wave coming!" She struggled onto her injured legs and hugged the palm tree closest to her, while the other woman ran a few feet further inland to cling onto another tree. Luckily, they were now on the sheltered side of the island, so although the force of the debris cut and bruised her skin, the water only reached her neck. Her cries mixed with the yelps and screams of the other survivors. When the water receded, Charlotte laid down on the rubble. All she wanted to do was sleep. A voice at the back of her mind told her that it was a bad idea to fall asleep while she was in shock, so she struggled to stay awake until she felt a hand on her shoulders. Looking up, she recognized the woman to be the one with the baby. She was urging her to get up, so that they could get help. Charlotte was too exhausted to speak, let alone stand, so she looked at the woman dazedly before her eyelids fluttered shut.

"Help!" Leah started shouting. Her body was scraped and cut all over but her injuries were minor compared to the other woman, who was quickly falling unconscious. After a while, a few uninjured locals and Westerners came down to the beach and Leah yelled for help again, over and over until her voice became hoarse. One of them noticed her and came running towards them. "Thank you! Oh my God thank you so much. Please, please help her."

* * *

"I'm not leaving without Charlotte."

"Cooper, this isn't a suggestion. You need surgery," Amelia said plainly. _And so do I. _The English man had told them that their ambulance had arrived, and lead all of them downstairs. She looked over at the Asian man inside the ambulance, who was delirious, but still conscious, and Ben, whose teeth were clattering. If she thought about it, she could feel herself becoming numb as well. "Cooper."

"Maybe if we just wait for a while, then Charlotte, Violet and the rest will show up and we can all go to the hospital together…" He did realize it was a long shot, but he really didn't want to have surgery without knowing whether Charlotte was safe or not. He didn't want to wake up with news that she was missing, or worse, that she'd died and he'd have to identify her body to make sure. Charlotte would be there soon, and soon as he saw her, he would get on the ambulance and let the doctors fix him.

"Maybe you need to hit the pause button on your idealistic crap and save yourself. If anyone else is alive, we'll find 'em later. Hell, we might even find someone at the hospital. I'm sorry if that was harsh, but you're not doing any of us any good sitting here while everyone's condition worsens," Amelia sighed. She didn't want to seem like a bitch; if she had a choice, she would want to wait for everyone too but this was completely out of her hands. There were hundreds of people in this hotel and God knows how many are fighting to get on that ambulance. Cooper needed to put his feelings aside and grow the hell up.

"Easy for you to say," the pediatrician muttered under his breath. They both knew James was dead. _Low blow, Coop, _he could hear Violet reprimand him.

Her head snapped up. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Fuck you," Amelia hissed. "It's not easy—it's hard as hell. Addison, Charlotte and Jake are God knows where… and I just left my boyfriend in the middle of a shipwreck, my boyfriend who might very well be dead right now. But I'm not going to give up and let myself—and everyone else— _die _in the process just because things are hard. _You _told _me _to open my eyes, I think it's time you open yours. You need help. Now go get it, or kill us both, because I'm not leaving without you."

"I'll stay and look for her—your… your wife," Elle offered. She didn't suffer from any major injuries, just a few bruises here and there from the earthquake. She could stay at the hotel and try to find these people's friends and families. "I don't need to go to the hospital and I plan on staying here to help out anyway… so if anyone of your friends show up, I'll let them know you all are safe at the hospital."

"I—I would appreciate that," Amelia replied earnestly. She looked over to her friend. "Cooper?"

Cooper was quiet for a few seconds before looking up at the young blonde, his defeated eyes filled with gratitude. "Charlotte King—she's blonde, got a southern accent. She's my wife," he said quickly, limping towards the ambulance. "And the others are Violet Turner, Addison and Jake Reilly and James Petersen."

"Got it," Elle assured him and helped the female doctor into the van. The doctor mouthed a 'thanks' and Elle nodded, flashing her a weak smile before closing the ambulance doors. Five names. Five people. What were the odds that all five would survive and end up at the same safe house?

* * *

They had stopped moving, that was all he knew. In the middle of darkness and eerie silence, save for the slight rustle of wind and water, Jake couldn't make out which part of the island they were on. The wave had swept their life raft inland, and then dragged them out again, before spinning them around and washing them onto some wrecked beach. He'd braced himself for the third, but after a few minutes of still nothingness, he'd realized that it was finally over. They still had to make it back to civilization, to a hospital and try to find out what happened to their friends, but the terror was finally over. And yet she still hasn't woken up. Jake sat on the roof with one leg crossed and the other one jutting out, Addison's head lay between him, lying on his folded shirt. Her body was lying unnaturally straight—he'd tied her ankles together with his belt, and used his slacks to improvise a very quick and basic pelvic sling to keep her in place. He hadn't the right machines to diagnose her injuries—neither did it help that she was still unconscious—but if there was something he'd learned during his internship, it was to always assume the worst unless proven otherwise. Her screams had haunted him as he mulled over the fact that half her body had been submerged in water and came up with the likeliest conclusion that her lower body—he didn't know, nor dare "test" which part exactly—had been hit or crushed by something. So as soon as the roof became still, he'd used what he had and tried to stabilize her… he'd probably done a crap job at that, since he could barely see at the time and had to use his hands and imagination to feel around, but it would have to do.

At that moment, his arm was lying limply over her chest that to Jake's relief, gently rose and fell. He wanted to wake her up; to hold her in his arms and feel her entire body pressed against him, but he didn't dare move her and risk causing her more pain. As his hands brushed against her face, he whispered apologies over and over. He told her he was sorry, for making the wrong decision, for leading her into that hotel, for being the reason she was in this state. He murmured words of love, wishes and dreams. He told her that if he could, he would take away her pain in a heartbeat. His chest physically ached as his mind replayed her screams. He spoke of Henry, of their family, of how he'd promised to love and cherish her for as long as he was alive. He muttered that they would owe the babysitter a huge amount of overtime payment. He wondered about their friends. He wished for her to wake up, and said that he wanted them to grow old and wrinkly together. He smiled at that. Addison would never allow herself to become wrinkly, and even if she were old, she would still insist to wear those ridiculously high heels. He hoped she was having nice dreams; that she wasn't in pain. He hoped that she knew that he was there for her, that he would never leave her, like he'd promised.

Not once did she reply nor acknowledge his vocal musings and pleas, but he was somewhat at peace. That night, where the star-freckled sky seemed to mock him, he found comfort in the pulse beneath his hands, at the base of her neck. Amid the darkness, the vibration of her heart beating against his touch was the most beautiful sound in the world.

* * *

"Did you know that the last tsunami to hit Fiji happened half a century ago?" Mark asked.

"The chances of one happening in this area _is _in fact very slim," Vivian nodded thoughtfully.

Mark smirked at his former professor. "Vivian, what would you call a rare natural disaster occurring on the exact date, place and time that Addison decides to have her honeymoon?"

"Wedding after-party," Bizzy corrected.

"None of this answers my question!" Addison interjected, exasperatedly. Desperate, she looked over to the only man in the room who didn't seem to be enjoying her unfortunate situation. "Pete?"

"You're not dead," the older man told her, rolling his eyes at the jerk of a plastic surgeon. "You're just…"

"In a limbo!" Mark yelled, cracking up as Bizzy tried to hide her amusement.

"No, no…" Vivian shook her head. "Sloan, I think you've tormented poor Addison enough."

"Hey, how come _she's _Addison and I'm Sloan?" Mark protested.

"Because you failed all your OB practical assessments?" It was Addison's turn to smirk.

"As I was saying," Pete interrupted. "You're in a state of unreality. A reverie."

"Where's the quack's interpreter?" Mark asked innocently, causing Addison to let out a small giggle.

Pete glared.

"Mark, don't be silly," Bizzy tutted. She looked at her baffled daughter. "What he means, Dear, is that you are dreaming." A new glass appeared in her right hand with an audible pop. Bizzy raised her eyebrows in surprise but extended her arm, offering the glass to a slack-jawed Addison. "It's far from Forbes-Montgomery standard, but while we're at it, would you like some wine?"

* * *

"Ma'am! You need to stay awake!"

Charlotte could hear someone yelling at her and she opened her eyes to see the face of a young man. He was carrying her somewhere. The woman with the baby was nowhere to be found. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Everything is going to be okay! Don't worry, just try to stay awake okay?" The man cut her off, false cheeriness in his voice.

She nodded. In the background, Charlotte could hear panicked voices, men yelling to one another. "What—?" She croaked.

"They found a survivor near a tall tree, impaled on a piece of wood. He seemed to be alive and conscious, but incoherent, barely making any sounds," the Australian explained. "They're debating whether they should remove the wood."

"No!" The blonde found herself crying. "No—don't, remove anything. I'm a doctor. He'll bleed to death. If you can bring me to him, I can assess his wound and figure out the best way to transport him," she wheezed.

"You're pretty beaten up, I don't know if I should—"

"Please." She was wide awake now, and there was no way in hell was she going to let a bunch of fools kill a man when she could very well save him. Her rescuer seemed hesitant, but nodded, changing directions. She could hear him yelling for the others to stop what they were doing, and he started to run. The pain in her leg was seeping through the shock, but just gritted her teeth. She could handle it for now. When the man carrying her finally stopped, Charlotte looked and was relieved when she saw the woman with the baby standing among the crowd. The small crowd made way for her and the Australian man, and she slowly took in the sight. Half of an upturned fishing boat was leaning against a large tree, pieces of broken wood and metal surrounding it. Charlotte could make out arms sticking out from behind the wreckages. _The impaled man, _she thought, grimacing. The poor soul. Upon closer inspection, her blood ran cold.

Pinned between the pine tree and the boat was a man, his chin and front of his shirt covered in blood. His frenzied eyes frantic as his arms and legs twitched trying to free himself, but the trunk of his body—his torso—was held in place by a wooden pole, speared into his lower right ribcage, impaling him. It was the only thing that kept him from bleeding out, ironically the only thing that was keeping him alive. Any slight movement and his artery, vein or inner organs might rupture, causing instantaneous death. His mouth moved as he tried to speak, but no sound would come out.

Charlotte's voice was almost inaudible when she spoke. "James Petersen."

* * *

Before Jake knew it, daylight pushed away the darkened sky; the sun beginning to show itself and black became grey, like a developing photograph. He looked around and took in surroundings he did not recognize. There were no buildings in sight, only trees and washed up garbage and pieces of infrastructure. It definitely wasn't the beach he'd walked the night before. The water had completely retreated back to its usual level, leaving debris and destruction upon the shore, like evidence that it had once been there. He cautiously ran his hands up and down his wife's arm, trying to wake her up without inflicting more damage onto her injures. "Addison," he called. She tried to bat his hands away and her lips quivered, as if she were speaking to someone. He raised his eyebrows. _At least she's not screaming again._ "Addison." He sighed in relief when her eyes flickered open, carefully watching as she takes in her surroundings.

It was dawn when Addison opened her eyes, wincing at the throbbing pain and panicked when she found herself unable to move her legs.

"Hey, hey, I'm here. You're okay," he soothed, hovering over her as soon as he saw her confused eyes widen in alarm. "You were injured, so I tied you up in a quick pelvic sling. How are you?"

"Hurts," she breathed.

"Where? Tell me where it hurts, Addison," he encouraged, rubbing her hair.

"Down."

"Your legs?"

She shook her head and took a deep breath. "A little." It was mostly numb.

"Where does it hurt the most?"

Her vision became dazed but it quickly cleared away. "Stomach. I—I think my pelvis is fractured," she rasped. "Am I bleeding?"

Concerned, he scrambled to check between her legs. He hadn't been able to see last night. If she were… "No. No blood," he assured her. _Thank God._

"That's—that's good."

"It is. Don't worry, okay? We'll get you help soon," Jake said. Wherever they were, it was definitely too quiet.

Addison gave him a small smile. He was obviously worried, yet he was telling her not to worry. She slightly twisted her head and saw bruising and discoloration on his bare upper torso. "Your chest."

_Hurts like hell. _"Yeah, it's a bit bruised from the landing," he told her.

"What happened to your shirt?" She asked, her nose crinkling.

He laughed at that. If she were able to sit up, she would notice that he was only in his boxers. He'd used his trousers and undershirt to stabilize her lower body, and his shirt was Addison's pillow at the moment. "I've found a better use for it," he smiled, and wondered where all the rescuers were.

"Okay," she said quietly even though she didn't know what he meant. "Jake?"

"Hm?"

There should be sounds of people, rescuers, and helicopters. The silence was disconcerting. "Where are we?"

_I'd like to know as well, _he thought, but decided against saying so. They were probably on another, more remote side of the island. Jake was about to answer when the smell of burning flesh hit him. _  
_

* * *

Oooh, things are starting to turn twisted. Hahaha okay. I hope you liked this one. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Also, if you like Mark/Addison, check out Ships In The Night. ;) Thank you so much.


	6. The Art Of Killing

**Hey guys, thanks for all the reviews. I smile reading them. This is me asking for more... :P Like it, love it, hate it? Tell me everything! Review for more chapters ;)**

* * *

The wind brought a rich, bitter smell of smoke, charcoal and something else she did not recognize—sulfur? She couldn't be sure, but she pinched her nose because even the slightest whiff nauseated her and she didn't think vomiting up last night's dinner would be beneficial to her current situation. If her instincts were correct, the unnatural soundlessness of their surroundings meant that she and Jake were stranded on a part of the island that was separate from everybody else… or that everybody else were dead. Addison smiled wryly at the thought of them, the newlyweds being the only survivors of this once in a lifetime disaster. Imaginary Mark had been spot on: her love life _must_ be cursed. Her happily ever after had succeeded in the destruction of an island. She grimaced when Jake pried her fingers off her nose, and she involuntarily breathed in the smell again, though this time it seemed thinner. Concerned eyes looked down at her; she was starting to see Jake a lot clearer now, as it slowly became day again. She could distinguish a few cuts on his face, and his cheek was definitely bruised, though it was nothing compared to his chest that was becoming more and more colorful, in the worst possible way. The large trees that surrounded parts of the roof towered over them, blocking some of the sunlight, but it was a good thing, Addison decided, because they acted as a shelter. And the presence of trees meant there was a water source not too far away. If they weren't rescued in a couple of days, the trees would make sure they didn't die of dehydration. Then, her eyes rounded as a thought struck her. If there was smoke… "Jake, we're not alone," she said, excitedly. "Unless it's wildfire, someone caused this. Maybe to signal rescue jets and helicopters?" She was optimistic, but she could only guess. Facing the sky, all Addison saw were greens of leaves and blues.

It wasn't wildfire, that much he knew. He was able to distinct the smell of burning flesh. Like steak on charcoal except putrid with a touch of sulfurous acid, the scent doesn't really get out of your nose. Addison was right. They weren't alone. But whomever it was that caused the burn was in trouble. He got onto his feet. Peering from the tree trunks that partially blocked his view of the left side of the beach, Jake thought he saw a figure emerge from the woods in the distant and squinted, placing a hand on Addison's arm to still her. The figure—a person, he reasoned, because it was standing on two legs—headed towards the ocean, stopping at something that was lying on a pile of driftwood. Hope soared through him. "We're not alone," he looked down at his wife with a relieved smile and confirmed what he saw. They weren't completely isolated from civilization. Addison was going to get help. Everything was going to be all right. He looked up again, eyes searching for the person that was far away just as Addison started calling for help. What he saw made his blood run cold and he quickly knelt down, taking cover behind the tree, and covered her mouth with his hands, silencing her.

_What—? _Her brows furrowed. There were people! She wondered if Jake was playing some kind of joke, but trusting him, Addison quieted down, her heart racing at his sudden behavior.

Jake sat down, letting out a shaky breath. He didn't know what to make of what had just happened. He removed his hand from Addison's mouth when he was elbow as support, so that he could see Addison's face when he spoke.

She looked at her husband and was concerned when she was met with troubled eyes. Whatever it was, it couldn't be _that _bad. Could it? "Jake?" She asked quietly. What did he see?

Before answering, he twisted his head around, eyeing the small gap in the trees to make sure that no one else was nearby; that the figure he saw was far, far away, across the beach. His heart beat erratically in his chest. Jake saw the worry in Addison's face, and reached for her hand. He had no idea how to explain or reason what he thought he just saw happen, so in hushed whispers, he tried to describe it, his hand clasped around hers doing nothing to soothe his disconcertment, but he could only hope it lessened hers. The smell of charred flesh, coupled with what he just witnessed… He didn't know how to say it. "The person I saw, he, uh, he—or she—walked out from the woods to something that had been washed onto the beach. He beat it with a stick, or uh, a bludgeon and lifted it onto his shoulders. Carried it back inland."

"Okay?" He was stuttering. Jake didn't stutter. She still didn't know where he was going with this.

He bit his lip when she saw her frown, confused. "I don't know if I'm imagining things, Addison, but I'm pretty sure what he just _clubbed to dea—_uh, killed—and hauled back into the woods was a person."

* * *

"Petersen!" Charlotte gave a strangled cry, and the flash of recognition in his desperate eyes shattered her heart into a million pieces. The young man holding her tightened his grip.

"Ma'am, do you know this person?" An unfamiliar voice asked, amidst all the noise.

_Yes, I know this person, you fuckin' moron. If I didn't, I wouldn't be calling out his name. _"Yes," she finally managed to choke out. Her own injuries felt alien to her. "What's… what is he stuck on?" It was hard to see clearly from her viewpoint.

"Part of a boat," the Australian carrying her replied. His eyes darted over to the helpless man, impaled on a long piece of wood that jutted out from the fishing boat, and winced. He didn't think the man was going to make it. The doctor had said that removing the pole would be fatal and there was no way the rescue team were going to be able to move the entire boat inland to get the man the help he needed. He simply was going to die. This female doctor in his arms, however, had a chance. "Maybe we should go," he told her quietly. "You need help."

"No…" The boat was far too large to transport by manpower alone—which was all they had. Removing Petersen from it would ultimately kill him. Distressed, Charlotte wracked her mind for a solution, any solution. If they could find a chainsaw… "Separate the pole from the boat," she ordered, using the same tone she would use with her staff, back in her hospital. Her vision became dizzy and Charlotte blindly grasped for the teenager carrying her, finally clutching his shirt.

"How the hell are we going to—" A woman began.

Petersen had to live. He had to, for Amelia's sake. "Cut it. With a saw," Charlotte barked. The voices around her grew louder. "We can't remove the pole from him, and we can't move the boat. So we cut the pole out and lift him to a hospital, as gently as possible, and let the surgeons do their work. He can't die," she said, her voice authoritative and final, before blacking out. Darkness overcame her; she could faintly hear a male voice frantically calling out for her as she slipped away from consciousness.

* * *

"We're stuck on an isolated part of the island with someone that just beat a person to death,"Addison repeated, the blood slowly draining from of her face. She felt the urge to throw up again.

"And carried the body back into the woods, to do God knows what with it," Jake continued. _Probably set on fire, _he though, a chill rising up his spine. He has yet to tell Addison what the rancid, burning smell was. She wouldn't take it very well, and he didn't know if knowing the information would make a difference or not. Being stranded on an island with a killer seemed like enough information for a day (or lifetime).

"And I can't walk, let alone run," she realized, terrified. "We're going to die."

* * *

Cooper could hear doctors whispering about transferring some surgical patients to New Zealand and internally panicked. Amelia needed surgery and he couldn't just _leave,_ not without Charlotte and the rest of his friends. He tried to reason that Amelia's broken wrist probably didn't require an advanced surgical team, but was still concerned since she was nowhere to be found. He was in the ER and she had been wheeled away earlier, and without a watch or clock in sight, he had no idea how long time had passed. The loud noise of medics and doctors combined with the desperate wails of family members put him in some sort of trance. New patients, victims of the tsunami, were being wheeled in every now and then. He had just gotten his Tetanus shot and was currently being pumped with painkillers and antibiotics, though the goddamn nail was still embedded in his foot, which was throbbing, but at least now he didn't have to worry about blood poisoning, gangrene, or Tetanus. There were more patients than doctors in this less than state of the art hospital, and the female next to him was still crying loudly, like she was being murdered, so he snatched the curtains open, irritably. She was Caucasian, looked about thirty to forty years old and was alone. "What is wrong with you?" The pediatrician snapped. She whimpered before telling him that she'd sprained her ankle, and that the doctor had told her to wait while he tended to more severe injuries. He rolled his eyes when she started wailing again. He didn't want to be an ass, but he had a nail stuck in his foot and the painkillers weren't doing their job properly, so he gave her a threatening look before snarling, "I have a nail embedded in my foot, and they're not tending to me either so why don't you shut the fuck up before I give you something to cry about?" It was uncharacteristic of him; he was a pediatrician for God's sake, but it did the trick and the woman immediately shut up. He pulled the curtain partition closed and leaned back into the bed with a sigh. He saw a young doctor scurrying towards the exit and yelled, catching the man's attention. When he got to his bedside, Cooper gestured to his feet. "Look, I know you're busy, but you need to remove this—right now. The shitty painkillers your shitty colleague gave me aren't working, so I'm starting doubt the potency of the Tetanus vaccine and antibiotics from your shitty hospital."

The bewildered doctor stared at him, stunned. "There's another ambulance coming in, Sir, and I have to—"

"You have to get this nail out of me," Cooper growled. The other doctor looked visibly shaken, so he softened before continuing. "I'm a doctor in the United States. You guys are obviously understaffed. The sooner you remove the nail, disinfect and patch up all my injuries, the sooner I can help you take care of all these patients, okay?"

The younger doctor hesitated.

"I ran half a mile with this nail in my foot—you don't know how fucking _deranged_ I am right now so remove it or you will be the one needing a Tetanus shot," the pediatrician threatened, and was pleasantly surprised to see the other doctor snapping on a pair of gloves and kneeling down to inspect his feet. "And while you're at it, tell the nurse to get me twenty milligrams of morphine."

* * *

"International breaking news: Tsunami claims Fiji at half past midnight after a six point five magnitude quake in the pacific region."

_Oh my God. _"Sam!" Naomi shrieked, waking him up. They had been lying on the couch in Maya's hospital room, him asleep and her flickering from one TV channel to another when the news reporter spoke, catching her attention. She increased the volume. "… Suva and Kadavu. Number of casualties is uncertain at the moment but search and rescue teams have just been notified…"

"What the hell…" Sam Bennett rubbed his eyes and looked over at Maya. She was still asleep.

"Fijian authorities issued a tsunami warning to the public, minutes just before the first wave struck the shores. All communication with the island has been cut, and we are unsure of the severity of the damage done…"

"Sam, there was a tsunami in Fiji. The newscaster was speaking of _casualties and death tolls," _Naomi said in a low voice that contradicted her frantic eyes and rapid heartbeat. Frenzied eyes met. "Addison," she whispered, and it took her everything not to hug him and cry. Her friends were on a fucking _beach house. _They had no chance.

_Damn it. The kids. _"Nae, we have to go back to L.A. Henry, Lucas, and Cooper's..."

* * *

"No," he whispered. Like hell was he going to let them die. They had just survived the impossible, a wave that destroyed everything in its path; they had managed to pull through together, with their bodies, to a limited extent, intact. They'd lived through Mother Nature's wrath. It would be somewhat of a cop-out if they survive all that that only to die at the hands of one murderous psychopath. _How do you know there's only one? _A voice inside his head mocked, and he tensed, willing it to go away.

"I can't _move, _Jake," Addison said quietly. A small, single creak and rustle sounded and she gave a startled yelp, hands flying to cover her own mouth.

Frantically, he sat straight up and looked around for the source of the noise. It had become eerily quiet again, so he brushed it off to the wind and wreckage around them that had been swept up onto the shore. He ran his fingers through Addison's hair. Her hands were still clamped over her mouth, and she was shaking. "It's okay, Baby, it's okay… Nobody's going to hurt you," he reassured her, his hands in her locks.

She removed her hands. "I can't move," she repeated. _"You _can." _Run! _She wanted to scream at him. _Get help! Save yourself._

* * *

Amelia opened her eyes to sound of a baby crying, and the scent of cigarettes and air freshener. She sat up, unsure of what to make of the seemingly empty room, before it dawned on her that although it lacked any furniture, she was in her father's store. The same cracks on the floor were there, and she could clearly remember running coins through the gaps on the floor when she was a child. The baby was still crying, so she got up, intent on finding it. When she turned around, what she saw struck terror into her.

"Hey, Beautiful."

_Ryan. _Her face paled. He was carrying a bundle in his arms, the owner of the cries. She was about to break into sobs when two other people from the corner of the room interrupted her, making their presence none.

"Amy!" The two voices boomed simultaneously.

"Shit, shit, _shit,"_ Amelia blurted out, backing away. "Shoot, I meant shoot," she quickly corrected, looking at her father, who was frowning. He looked good without a bullet hole in his head.

* * *

"What are you trying to say?" He asked, his forehead crinkling.

"That you should leave me here, and get the hell away from this place," she breathed. She was going to die anyway, in a few days, if she didn't get proper medical attention. She was a burden and Jake had a better chance of survival without her. She needed one of them to survive this, for Henry. A selfish part of her didn't want to live without Jake, so she would much rather he let her die, peacefully, knowing that he would live and take care of their son. And _Amelia. _She trusted Jake with Amelia. Amelia was a fighter, she would survive this. Addison knew it wasn't like her to give up, but extreme situations cause people to say and do extreme things. She couldn't fathom why the stranger that Jake was so sure he saw would want to kill after such a terrible disaster, but she trusted her husband's judgment. Jake didn't scare easily, and if he thought that they should be afraid of something, she would trust his word and be scared out of her mind.

"What?" He whispered, incredulous. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this place and back to civilization, but as far he knew, there was no way he was leaving her with a murderer, immobile and vulnerable. How could she suggest he leave her to die? "Addison, are you out of your mind?"

"If what you saw wasn't a hallucination, we're sharing space with a murderer. You need to run before he finds and kills us both," she hissed. He didn't seem to understand the severity of the situation. "I need you to live," she pleaded, her voice cracking as her eyes became glossy with tears.

"I'm going to live," he told her. "And so are you."

"Jake—"

"I'm not leaving you to die,"he snapped, cutting her off. "Now, what I'm going to do is cover you, and some kind of weapon before I leave to find us clean drinking water. You're going to stay hidden and pretend to be asleep, prepared to defend yourself if necessary."

"I—"

"I'm driving, Addison. I'll go get us some food and water. It might take a while, but I promise to come back as fast as I can. You're going to kill everyone else that steps onto this roof, before they can lay a hand on you. Do you understand?" He watched her nod fearfully and bent down to place a kiss on her cheekbone. Standing up, he looked around to make sure they didn't have company before lowering himself onto the ground. He carefully trod among the wreckage, until he came across a curved metal rod with a sharp, protruding end. He picked it up. On top of a pile of debris, he saw a large cooking knife that was slightly bent, but otherwise still usable. He kept it as well. On his way back to the roof, Jake saw a flat piece of wood with nails sticking out and placed the knife onto the piece of wood, carrying both in his hand as he made his way back to his wife. He set the three objects down onto the roof, alerting Addison of his presence and bent down to pick up a piece of concrete. If Plan A fails, he wanted to make sure that Addison had a Plan B, C _and D _to fall back on.

* * *

"Well I thought you'd be happier to see me," Mr. Shepherd said chuckling. He walked over to play with his grandson.

"I, I am," she said, unconvincingly. _I'm dead. Oh God, I'm dead. _Her eyes frantically darted around the empty room. James and Addison weren't here. That was good. _It's not good. You're dead. Dead, Amelia. Fuck, fuck, fuck... _"Fuck."

"Language, Amy, there's a baby in the room," the third voice said.

"Mark."

_You see me, a dead man, and all you say is my name? _"You're no fun at all, Little Shepherd. Addie gave _me _a hug," Mark Sloan sulked.

_"You saw Addie?" _She shrieked. _No... _

"Shh, you're upsetting the baby," Ryan whispered.

"My baby died, Ryan," Amelia said harshly. "So did you. All of you."

"No shit," Ryan laughed, raising the giggling infant into the air.

"And what does that make you?" Mark wondered, smirking. He did enjoy screwing with people's heads, making them think they were dead. Their reactions can be so entertaining. Amelia immediately took bait.

"Dad?" She demanded, looking straight at her father. "Am I dead?"

"Of course not, Amy," the older man said kindly, but offered no other explanation.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Christopher," he groaned.

"Mark," the man mocked.

"You're even less fun. Figures. Shepherds," he grumbled.

"Hey!" Father and daughter protested. Amelia looked at her father and grinned, running into his arms, feeling the warmth in his embrace for what might be the last time.

* * *

The improvised "weapons" clattered onto the roof next to her and Addison tried twisting her body to see what her husband had brought, but Jake placed his hand on her chest and gently pushed her back down.

"Save your energy for when it matters," he said simply, ignoring her disgruntled protests. He held up the metal rod, showing her the sharpened edge. It was long enough for a surprise attack. "Ideally, this would be enough to kill your attacker with the first stab. I'm sure you know where you should be aiming for, but be careful not to aim too close to his or her hands—you don't want them to be able to grab it and turn your own weapon against you."

She listened and nervously inspected her first weapon. She dreaded having to fight and kill someone—she wasn't exactly at her best, unable to even sit up, but she merely nodded, allowing him to continue him continue.

"This one, you keep by your side," he began again, holding up the piece of wood. "You use this, or the knife, if your attacker is within closer range. The nails will hurt like hell, so be nasty and aim for the face, heart, or groin. Or anywhere else, to buy you time. The third, if you need time, is this piece of rock. Aim for the head, you can use it as many times you want. The last is this knife. It's a bit bent, but pretty much intact. The handle is still fine. This is your murder weapon. You stab to kill, Addison. You do it over and over again until the bastard stops twitching," he said grimly. "Now, I realize how difficult it might be for you given your position, which is why you're going to try use those things right now, to get a hang of it. Should you ever need to use those weapons, there will be no room for mistakes. The objective is to kill before being killed. You don't trust anyone, no matter how harmless they may seem. If you get the chance, kill."

* * *

"Think, Amy, what's the last thing you remember?" Mark asked, hinting. They were sitting on the ground now, on the hardwood floors. He briefly wondered why they couldn't get chairs and furniture but decided he didn't care. He was getting the chance to see people he loved, so no matter how unfortunate the circumstance and setting was, he would appreciate it. At the moment, Amelia was sitting between Ryan's legs. His face was perched on her shoulder. She had her son against her chest, her face pressed against his, holding him like she never wanted to let go. Opposite of her sat Christopher Shepherd. It was a beautiful, but ultimately heartbreaking sight.

Amelia thought. "There was a wave. I remember pain. The hospital." _Surgery. "Oh."_

So she's figured it out. Mark smiled broadly.

"When you said you Addie," she began, biting her lip. "How was she?"

"She was great," Mark answered honestly.

"How about right now?"

"She's okay." _For now._

"What does _that_ mean?"

"She's alive, Amy. So's her boyfriend, if you were wondering."

"Husband," Ryan corrected.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Right, her _husband."_

* * *

They were doctors. They saved lives, not take them, and he was starting to freak her out with all his talk about killing. However, she understood where he was coming from. Shakily, she reached out for the metal rod. The curve of it was perfect for her grip, and it jutted out far enough for her to be able pierce someone standing about two feet away. It was quite thin, so she managed to hold it above her without a problem, practicing. Jake grabbed her wrist, twisting it into a position better suited for attacking and she silently complied. The wooden board was scary to handle. The sharp edges of the rusty nails sticking out from it made it seem like a death trap, and she internally reminded herself not to accidentally roll over it. The knife and rock was easy enough to use. They sat—well, he sat and she was lying on her back—and discussed the best tactics, finally agreeing on getting the attacker to end up lying down beside her, unconscious or wounded, and finishing him or her with the knife. That way, she would be able to twist onto her side and make the right stabs and incisions. "You really have to go?" she asked quietly, breaking the silence. She knew the answer, and it terrified her, though she refused to cry.

He flashed a weak smile, leaned down, and gave her a kiss, his hand interlacing with hers. It was soft and sweet, like an unspoken promise. _No matter what happens, I'll always love you. _He refused to say it out loud, because it would mean that there was a chance that one of them might not make it, and to him, that was unacceptable. Addison was going to fend for herself, and he was going to bring back food and water, and they would make it—the both of them—together.

"Jake, I love—" Addison began, before he silenced her with another kiss.

He placed another kiss on her forehead, knelt and got up, ignoring the dull pain in his chest. "Tell me when I get back," he told her. He hopped down from the roof, thankful for his shoes, bent down to grab a half-broken bottle on the ground to use on desperate occasion and disappeared into the woods. He had another life depending on him back at the roof. He would die before he let her down.


End file.

Private Practice, Drama, Romance