So this is my first Grey's/Addison/Mark/Derek fic, so comments would be awesome!
I don't claim to own any of the characters, just borrow them at times :)
She slammed down the phone as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Home alone again tonight. Again!
She'd rung the hospital earlier this afternoon. Derek hadn't had any surgeries booked for tonight - that much she knew. Something always comes up, whether it's his surgery or not. It's always just another excuse not to be in the same room as me.
"I should be used to this by now, so why does it affect me over and over?" Addison whispered out loud, as she swiped at the tears on her face.
She looked down at the tear that had dared to splash onto the kitchen bench, like it had betrayed her confidence somehow.
She had left the hospital early this afternoon, to prepare dinner for them since they hadn't seen each other much lately. They were both exhausted all the time. They were, both, always working too much. Not spending time on each other, on working things out.
She'd lost part of herself somewhere along the way. The old Addison wouldn't be too tired or lazy to argue. She'd make the effort if it would fix things. The old Addison wouldn't be waiting, hoping that tonight her husband would actually come home tonight. That he'd want to sleep next to her, hoping he'd want to actually touch her.
That he'd actually see her, look at her.
How have we come to this point, where he'd rather sleep in the on-call room, than at home with me? Addison took a long swallow from her glass of wine. She had realised over the past 3 or 4 months that they couldn't just ignore it and hope it would go away. They both has to take a step to fix things.
She 'd made a lot of effort over the past few weeks, just little things, like conversation; a simple touch here and there. She'd been coming home earlier. But for every step she took forward, he seemed to be taking 3 back.
She had gone out and bought his favourite things tonight. Wine, italian and new lingerie. She was also wearing his favourite perfume. Sensi, by Georgio Armani, the perfume she'd worn when they first met.
All of this, to no avail. He still was refusing to acknowledge that anything needed any effort on his part. Was it her fault for not being easier to live with? For being just as talented and wanted as he was, as a surgeon?
She took another gulp of wine. What do I have to do to make things right? Am I trying too hard?
I'm desirable. I've had guys hit on me since we've been married, so I know I still have it. So why does the one person I want to see me, not want me? Why doesn't he desire me anymore? Why can't I be enough for him? It was as if she was standing there, reaching out for him, but he was always that one step too far away for her to reach.
Hot tears brimmed over her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks. Sobs bubbled up her throat. She hiccupped with the effort of trying to keep them at bay. Then gave up and let the feeling wash over her as the sobs wracked her body, until she felt empty.
Funnily, empty was a feeling she was getting used to. She actually welcomed it most of the time, because feeling empty was better than feeling anything else.
Like feeling like a stranger in your own house. It was a horrible feeling. Wanting your husband to actually being at home, but at the same time, some nights sighing a breath of relief when you realised he wasn't at home, because you didn't want to have to put on a smile, when you really didn't feel like it, and make so much effort, when you knew it would all be in vain anyway. All you really wanted is to come home and actually be comfortable in your own home.
It had been over a year since they had been intimate; they had had sex a few times within the year, but it wasn't intimacy, it was obligation, and always left her feeling hollow. It had been even longer since they'd had a conversation, which consisted of more than monosyllables, yes or no's, or any feeling. Even a good fight, a fight that left you both regretting something you said. A fight that ended up with you both, trying to make it up to one another.
She was starting to feel that, even if she was drowning in the ocean right in front of him, he wouldn't even notice.
Blowing out all the candles she had lit around the lounge room earlier, she opened another bottle of red wine and put on the stereo.
"It feels like everyday stays the same
It's dragging me down and I can't pull away
So here I go again
Chasing you down again
Why do I do this?
Over and over, over and over
I fall for you
Over and over, over and over
I try not to
Over and over, over and over
You make me fall for you
Over and over, over and over
You don't even try"
Addison glared at the stereo for its choice of songs. She got up to change songs, as a knock at the door sounded.
Maybe Derek had forgotten his keys? She walked to the mirror in the hall and checked what was left of her makeup... No use really, Addison. Crying never ends up being a good look.
She opened the door to Mark standing on the other side.
She couldn't hide her disappointment. "Oh, Mark. Great timing. As always."
It was how her nights had panned out over the past 3 months or so. She'd be home early. Waiting for Derek. He'd call and say he wasn't going to be home until late, don't wait up he says. She'd get upset, storm around the house, mulling over what she'd done, or be thinking about who Derek was with. Work herself up with a million thoughts rushing through her head. Or drink until she was numb.
Mark would turn up somewhere between the working herself up and the drinking stage.
She wasn't sure how it started, but one night after one of the first non-fights her and Derek had, she had been pacing around the lounge room talking to herself out loud. Trying to come up with a plan, of how she was going to get them out of this rut.
She was woken from her thoughts with knocking at the door.
Mark was standing there with a bottle of scotch. He walked in past her without waiting for her to ask. He had teased her about hearing her talking to herself, all the way from the sidewalk. She had gotten irrationally angry at him for teasing her. He feigned hurt, poured himself a scotch, her, another wine. Sat her down and got her to talk. She'd started out making excuses for Derek, saying it was work commitments, he wasn't sleeping well. Blaming herself for not being a better, more supportive wife. She hadn't wanted to tell Mark everything. Mark was her husband's best friend. It wouldn't be fair to any one of them. So they started on other topics and steadily got drunk together. She stumbled into bed, he, into the spare room. She remembered her last thought, before going to sleep, was that this was as good as she had felt in a while. Just to have easy conversation and a lot of laughs. For just one night she was able to forget everything else.
Since that first night, Mark started turning up 2 or 3 times a week. Then it slowly got to every week night, except Fridays and weekends. They were his going out nights, unless the three of them had plans.
He'd slowly started drawing her out. He had said he could see how unhappy she looked lately. How unhappy they both looked, when they were next to each other.
Somehow over the course of a month or so, her husband's best friend had become her friend and confidante. Mostly their conversations were light and full of laughter, but on a bad day they'd talk about Derek.
"Wow, what a welcome. I brought some wine, but obviously no more wine for you, until you're nicer." He tried for wounded, then winked at her.
"What are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be off with some nurse or something, it being a Friday night and all?" Addison paused, then smiled sadly, "You knew he wasn't coming home, didn't you."
A frown creased his forehead, and he shifted on his feet. Then he looked back up at her with mock-suspicion. Did you just call me a man whore? Thanks Addison. Nice, real nice." Addison shot him a look that said, like it's not true? "Yeah, ok maybe it was called for. I'm giving my man whore ways up for tonight. Are you going to let me in, or leave me to freeze my ass off out here?" He pushed past her.
"Wow, you really outdid yourself tonight Addison. Italian, candles, and wine. Still, he doesn't come home. Did you cook this yourself? Have you eaten?" He poured himself a glass of wine in the kitchen.
"Yep, I cooked. No, haven't eaten yet. I had arranged a dinner for Derek and I. It was all perfect until he didn't show up." She said with a shrug. Trying to show Mark it didn't really matter to her. "You know how these brain surgeons are." Addison looked over at him with a small smile.
Mark came over to her and placed a new glass of wine in her hand. "Well, no point in your dinner being wasted, let's eat huh."
Addison mulled this over, before deciding he was right. No use all this hard work going to waste. She got the dish out of the oven and placed it on the table.
"Since when do you know how to cook Montgomery? Usually it's take out!" Mark teased, helping himself to a large piece of lasagne. "Not bad for you Addie." He said, forking more into his mouth.
"Gee, thanks Mark." She said, leaning over to hit him playfully. She looked down at her plate and saw that she'd just been pushing her food around the plate. "At least you're here to appreciate my hard work. Sorry I'm in one of those moods tonight. Maybe you should've gone out."
He looked over at her and took her hand in his. "Addie, I keep telling you he's an idiot. He's my best friend, but he's an idiot not to come home to you every night."
She kept her eyes trained on her plate so he wouldn't see the tears brimming again. Dammit keep it together!
"Addison. Look at me." He gently tipped her chin up and wiped the stray tear that slipped down her cheek. "He's an idiot. You're not the kind of woman you leave at home. You're the kind you take out dancing, have fun with."
Addison looked away from him.
"Or the kind to stay at home with, the kind to want to come home to every night." He added.
"Please stop..." Addison whispered. "I just need, I don't know, something. Some reaction from him. Anything is better than nothing at this point. Lately I've been counting on nothing from him. But then, like today, he'll get my hopes up by saying he'll be home tonight, or he'll do this or that, only to let me down. It wouldn't be as bad if he didn't get my hopes up all the time." She stated sadly, looking up at him.
Mark could see the desperation in her eyes. She needed to feel wanted. That much he knew he could take care of. He and Derek had been friends before Addison had come into the scene, but at this moment he hated Derek. Hated him for making her feel this way, for not appreciating what he had right in front of him.
He stood, grabbed the bottle of wine, their glasses, and pulled her to her feet.
"Fine, I'll sit here, we'll drink, and you can tell me what's been going on this week." He said he sat down on the couch.
"I'd rather talk about anything but." She tops her glass up and takes a long swallow, as she sank to the floor cross legged, against the couch.
"Ok, so I met this nurse today, Amanda. We were meant to go for a drink tonight, but instead I'm here. So talk Addie, before I go back to my whoring ways." Smirk, with a cocked an eyebrow this time. "Do you want to have that on your conscience?" He teased.
"Not tonight. Tonight, I need to feel something other than... this." She said, dropping her hands down by her sides, looking defeated.
Mark moved over, sits beside her on the floor and put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm not good with the whole friend-ing girls, without getting a little something in return," He paused and flashed his 'Sloan smile', "But I know you need someone right now. You're not hard to friend Addie, even if you are a girl. I know you don't want me, but hey! I'm the next best thing."
Addison laughed gently and shook her head.
"Is that a smile? I like that look on you Montgomery. You should consider keeping it."
"Hey! Tonight I get a free pass. It's been a crappy day. Tomorrow, I'll be fine. Just a bad night, I swear!" She made the Scout's honour sign.
Mark pulled her in closer, letting her rest against his shoulder. "You're allowed to have an off day Addie. Like I said, he's my best friend, but he's a jerk."
They were silent for a while, as Addison leaned into his warmth, grateful for the comfort it brought. It had been so long since someone had taken this much interest in her. Even her best girl friends hadn't bothered to check on her. Mainly because they were "Addison and Derek", and everyone automatically thought they would just always be happy, always be together. She couldn't blame them; she used to think that too.
Addison drew in a breath for strength, before she confessed, " It's like I'm standing here, starving for Derek's attention, and it seems as if, after 10 yrs of marriage he doesn't even know my name. How is that possible? How can he not see how desperate I am for him to notice me? What do I have to do to make him notice me?" She asked, almost to herself. It was getting to the point, that at the end of every day she was dreading coming home.
She took another gulp of wine. The numbness, a comfort at the moment.
"I don't know how to make him see I need him. How can I tell him that I've tried? That my heart is breaking, every time I make an effort and he dismisses me? All I want is one thing. A reaction." She asked, desperately needing some sort of an answer.
She sits up and leaned on the coffee table, resting her chin on her hand. "If it were you, what would you do?"
"I would be making sure I was in bed with you." He winked.
Addison laughed, "Yeah, I actually don't doubt that. It'd be me and every other girl in the medical field in New York!"
"Hey! I'm not past going for a good looking waitress or two. Just don't tell the nurses, they'll get jealous." That cocky smirk again.
"At least with you, most girls know what they're getting themselves into." She sighed, leaning back against the couch. She pulled her legs up against her chest, wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them.
"So, why do I get into so much trouble if they already know? You females, tell you what, sometimes I wonder if it's worth the chase." He frowned, "Actually, no I take that back. It's always worth it." He laughed.
"Everything's just a list of consequences." Addison said, absently staring into space.
Mark put down his drink and touched her arm. "But they're not all your fault. You're not to blame for all of it. Like most things, it takes two." His fingers trailed down her arm until he grabbed a hold of her hand. "You know that, right?"
She looked down at their hands. "I know two people are involved, yada yada. But I know he blames me fully. What I don't know is why." She shrugged. "I don't know what to do. I've tried everything I can think of. You know what though? Some days it's perfect. We can just be sitting here comfortably with each other, having breakfast or whatever. But the days where it couldn't get any worse, outweigh the perfect ones. The fire has faded, and I don't know how to get it back." There was no more emotion in her voice. It was all matter-of-fact.
Mark lifted their entwined hands and kissed hers softly. She raised her eyes to his face, as his other hand came up to her face and his thumb brushed her cheek.
"Addie." He hesitated for a second, as he looked down at her, seeing her uncertainty. "I can't say anything to fix this. I can just give you what you what you need at the moment. Which is to make you feel wanted. That much I know how to take care of..." He said before leaning down to kiss her lips.
Addison felt herself stiffen as his lips touched hers, and then felt herself soften under his touch. Maybe he was right, maybe just for tonight; she did just want to feel wanted.
She felt his hand at the nape of her neck, stroking his thumb against her skin. Mark's tongue teased her lips apart and she felt herself open to him. Her arms creep up around his neck, his other hand at the small of her back.
All these parts of her started to come alive, sparks rushing around her body like a teenager. With that, came the realisation that for the first time in a year, someone was showing her some affection, actually wanting her, and not just using her because she was there.
Addison felt cool air on her abdomen and back, as Mark started to lift the hem of her shirt to touch her skin. He started to stroke the smooth skin along her spine. Her hands were running through his hair. Hair, which seemed to be too short.
Addison abruptly ended the kiss, and moved away from Sloan with a horrified look on her face. "Oh my god. I can't believe I just let that happen." She covered her face with her hands.
Mark moved towards her again. "Addison, we both wanted that to happen. You know that as much as I do. We've been fighting it for a while now."
"I know." She said miserably. "You're, you. You've been here when no one else has. I needed to feel contact with someone, but I wanted it to be Derek."
"So stop thinking Addie, just feel." He leaned forward when she looked up at him and tipped her face up, as he nipped at her neck. "I want you. I always have." He murmured against her collarbone.
Her hands flew to his chest, at first to push him away, but then as she started to let the sensations wash over her, she found they moved to his head to keep him in place. Something had turned off, something inside her that should've had told her this was a very bad idea. He moved her bra strap off her shoulder and started kissing the skin towards her breasts.
She moaned as he licked the flesh, just above her cleavage. "What? No more arguments? I was expecting more of a fight!" He looked up and cocked his eyebrow at her playfully, as he started to pull her top up over her head.
She raised her arms to help the process. "No more talking." She said before crushing her lips down on his.
Somewhere in between their urgent kisses, they had managed to get to the hallway, towards the bedroom. His jacket, thrown on the ground.
She had led him into hers and Derek's bedroom without thinking. She had one fleeting thought about how this could change everything, how this could be either the start or the end of everything, before pushing those thoughts down, and let the sensation of being wanted take over.
After Derek had left, and she was left in their house alone later that night, after a few straight vodkas, she was sitting on the floor in her bedroom. The bed sheets had been stripped, she sat in despair thinking of what had happened. Thinking of what was to come. Of that last fleeting thought, before she had fallen into bed with Mark. Her inner voice couldn't help but torment her.
You got what you wanted Addison. You got a reaction. Not the one you wanted, but you got a reaction. Remember "Everything's just a list of consequences." So was it worth it?