Author's Note: This is what happens when I re-watch the crossover episodes.
Oh, and to all my awesome readers of "I Promise You." Good news — I am actually writing it again! I'm hoping to start posting again somewhat soon-ish. And this time, maybe I'll make it to the end. ***crosses fingers***
Okay, now go read ...
Three hours after he last sees her, Derek finally finds her, slumped over at one end of the Emerald City bar, surrounded by a pile of empty beer bottles and shot glasses. The only thing that still has any trace of alcohol in it is clutched tightly in her right hand. She has her head turned to the wall, and Derek knows instantly she doesn't want anyone to see her face. No one is sitting anywhere near her. In fact, the only other people in the bar are Joe, who is warily watching her from the other end of the bar, and a threesome Derek now heads toward.
"Hey," he murmurs as he slides in beside Mark.
They also have shot glasses and beer bottles in front of them, but they aren't really drinking. They're just mute, numb. They look how Derek feels.
"How's your brain patient?" Mark asks. He doesn't really care, but anything to break the silent tension.
"Good," Derek says. "Good. Looks like she'll be fine." At least one of his patients will be, he thinks silently.
He turns his attention to Naomi. Her eyes are watery, but she's not crying. He notices Sam has her hand.
"I'm so sorry, Nae."
She manages a smile. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could. It was a long shot."
He nods. He knows. But it doesn't change anything.
Derek cocks his head toward the solitary figure at the bar.
"What about her?"
This time Naomi lets out a soft chuckle. "You know she's always been good at pretending she's fine," she says.
"I'm surprised she's still upright," Sam says. "I know she can drink, but ..."
"Oh, Addison can put it away." Mark smirks. "One of her many talents."
Derek watches as the redhead at the bar takes a swig from her bottle. Even from this distance, he can see how tense she is. A breakdown is coming. They all know it. The only question is when.
Derek turns back to them. "She's drinking beer."
Mark smirks again. "Joe took the scotch away after he left her the bottle, then caught her trying to drink straight from it."
Derek nods. There's nothing he can do. There's nothing any of them can do. So they just sit there, staring, waiting …
XXXXXXX
He closes his phone.
They look so happy. She looks so happy, spinning around the floor, dancing, laughing. He can still hear her words echoing in his ear. "Thank you for saving my brother!" How can he break her heart?
Derek grabs his jacket and heads over. She's talking to Mark. She spins around just as he approaches, indignation on her face.
"Wha … hey! What's this about a ring? From your mother?"
Derek throws Mark a look. "Thank you."
"She'd have found out about it eventually."
Addison's still talking. "I knew it. I knew it! I knew that woman never liked me. You used to lie and tell me she did, but I knew!"
She stops then, seeing the jacket. "Where're you going?"
"I have to go back to the hospital."
Naomi's listening now. "Is it Archer?"
He wants to say no. More than anything in the world, he wants to say no. But he can't. He can't say anything.
And then it's too late. There's a crash as Addison's glass falls from her hand, but she doesn't stop. Before the rest of them even realize what's going on, she's out the door, running as fast as she can, across the street, across the parking lot.
They follow her, Derek trying to tell them what he knows. Archer was doing fine, but then the seizures started again. He's having trouble breathing. They knew it was a long shot, even if the surgery worked; the chances that there was long-term damage from the earlier seizures had been high.
They don't catch up to Addison. Even in heels, she's flying. Derek never knew she could move so fast. He'd never even seen her jog around the block.
They race, now almost out of breath, into the hospital, up the stairs, to Archer's room.
They get there just in time to hear the flat line, to hear Meredith call code blue, to hear Addison let out a cry, a painful, anguished cry.
Derek races to Archer's bedside. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sam grab Addison, holding her back. He can see her struggling.
It's too late. They call time of death 20 minutes later. It's been less than 24 hours since they brought him in.
Addison breaks free from Sam's grip. She doesn't utter a word, but she practically throws herself on top of her brother. She's trying to wrap her arms around him, her face pressed against his chest.
Meredith gives Derek a bewildered look, and Naomi moves toward Addison, but Derek stops her. "Let her be." He ushers them all out and shuts the door behind him.
"Oh my God." Naomi has tears running down her face. "This can't be happening."
Sam pulls her into his arms, makes a sort of gesture and leads her away down the hall.
Meredith stands there uncomfortably for a second, then nods to herself. "I'll go get started on the paperwork," she says and walks away.
Mark and Derek look at each other, then slide to the ground outside Archer's room. All they can do now is wait.
XXXXXXX
They sit there for what feels like hours. More people have begun to trickle in. It's approaching dinner time. None of them notice. They barely talk. They sip their beers, take a few shots. But mostly they sit.
Even the newcomers seem to subconsciously know to avoid Addison. No one comes near her. Derek watches as she chugs down beers like they're water. But her posture never changes; she never looks their way.
Finally, Derek makes his way over to her, takes the empty stool beside her.
"Please go away, Derek." She doesn't turn her head to look at him.
"I'm so sorry, Addison."
He reaches for her hand, but she snatches it away before he can touch her.
"Please leave me alone."
"Addison …"
"Please …"
"Addie, I'm so sorry. I tried …"
She turns to him now. She looks pale, tired. Her eyes are unfocused, glassy — he knows it's from the drinking — but they aren't red. She hasn't cried yet.
"It's not your fault," she says, her voice strangely monotone. "I know. These things happen, right?" She shrugs.
"Why don't you let Sam and Naomi take you back to the hotel? It's been a long day."
She shakes her head and picks up an empty shot glass. He watches as she stares into it for a second. Finally, she seems to assess that it really is empty.
She bangs it on the bar. "Joe!" she calls. "Joe!" She bangs it on the bar a few more times. Derek guesses it's for emphasis.
"Yes, Addison?" Joe appears before them, smiling tenderly at her. She points at her empty glass.
"It's empty," she tells him. "May I please get another?."
Joe smiles again and turns around. Twenty seconds later, he hands her a new beer. Addison frowns.
"I don't want this," she says. "I want scotch"
"I told you no more scotch, Addison."
Addison's frown turns into a scowl. "But I want it."
"And I told you no."
"I want it."
"No."
"I want it!"
"No."
"I want it!" This time it's a shriek. She's halfway out of her seat before Derek manages to grab her and put her back in place.
She struggles against him, and finally yanks away from his grip, almost losing her balance and toppling off the other side of the stool. Derek manages to grab her before she falls, pulling her upright.
Addison glares at Derek, then at Joe. "Leave me alone," she mutters. She grabs the beer bottle Joe sets in front of her, hops off her stool and stalks over to an empty booth in the corner. Derek watches as she slides all the way in, turning her back on everyone.
Derek gets up and walks back to Sam, Naomi and Mark. He wants to help Addison, but she's drunk and hurting and he doesn't think there's anything he can do.
XXXXXXX
"How long do you think it's been?"
Mark and Derek haven't moved from their position on the floor outside Archer's room. Nurses, interns, residents, attendings — they've all walked by, they've all stared, but they aren't moving.
Derek checks his watch. "Three hours."
"Do you think we should get her out of there?"
She's still lying on top of her brother when they go in, her arms still wrapped around his neck, but her face is now buried in the crook of his neck. She's not making any noise, and she's not moving. Derek wonders if she's asleep.
"Addison?" he calls softly. "Addison?"
He starts to think she really is asleep when he hears her answer. "Go away."
He touches her shoulder this time. "Addie," he says gently. "We need to let them clean him up. You need to let go."
"No," she whispers, and he sees her arms tighten around his neck. "No. I want to stay. Please. I want to stay with him."
"I'm sorry, Addie. I'm so, so sorry."
Together, he and Mark manage to pry her arms off her brother. Together, they lift her off of him and place her on her feet. She sways, and they reach out to catch her, but she pulls away, backing toward the door.
"I can't be here." And then she's running again. And all they can do is watch.
XXXXXXX
The others finally leave. They've been here all day. Archer and Naomi's relationship had been new, but Naomi needs to grieve. And she doesn't want to do it in a bar full of strangers. She and Sam leave together, but not before they hand Derek a hotel key to a room they got for Addison — if she wants it.
Mark leaves too. He has surgeries. He wants to comfort Addison, but he only knows how to comfort her with sex. And he can't do that this time.
Derek moves to the bar. He can talk to Joe that way, but mostly, he can watch Addison out of the corner of his eye. She hasn't said a word since her slight meltdown over the scotch. She drinks her beers and Joe brings her more. She doesn't look at anyone. Derek finds himself wishing, as he had many times throughout their marriage, that her parents hadn't taught her to always appear so perfect. It only serves to make things worse.
Worse comes two hours later. The bar is beginning to fill up with Seattle Grace employees. Meredith and her friends are there. They're sitting at the bar next to Derek, a silent support group.
Alex is coming back from the bathroom when Addison gets up. Derek isn't sure if she's trying to get another drink or escape to the bathroom herself, but she doesn't get far. She's not looking where she's going and she runs straight into Alex.
To Derek's surprise, Alex doesn't say anything. He grabs her arm to keep her from falling and opens his mouth, presumably to say something comforting. But he doesn't get the chance. Addison throws up all over his shoes.
Alex stares at her, shocked, and Derek watches as realization dawns in Addison's eyes. She stares at Alex for a second, stunned, ashamed, humiliated, and then for the third time that day, she runs.
Derek doesn't hesitate. He throws a credit card down on the bar — "For hers and mine," he calls to Joe. "I'll get the card later" — tells Meredith he'll call her, gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, mutters a quick "sorry" to Alex, who still looks shocked, and takes off after Addison.
It's raining, hard. He frantically turns to the left, then the right, and finally spots her half a block away, still running. He chases after her.
She's not stopping. Derek wonders momentarily if she's trying to outrun the pain that's chasing her. But then she comes to a sudden halt. She's on her knees, violently throwing up into a bush, when he catches up to her.
He drops down beside her, reaching out and pulling her hair away from her face. He rubs her back as her fingers dig into the dirt and her body contracts painfully. Her breathing is shallow, and even through the rain, he can see the beads of sweat on her forehead.
He waits until she stops heaving, then very carefully, he turns her around and pulls her into his arms. She doesn't protest. He wraps his arms around her, still rubbing her back, softly stroking her hair.
He can feel how tense she is. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, and he can feel her nails digging into his skin. He pulls her closer.
"It's okay, Addie. It's okay. Just let go. It's okay."
He keeps repeating this, over and over and over. She's clinging to him desperately, fighting with all her might to keep the emotions, the pain, inside where she thinks they belong. The rain is soaking them, and just when he's about to give up, to pick her up to take her somewhere dry, she lets go. Her hands slide from around his neck down his chest and her head follows.
The sob almost explodes out of her. It's the most heartbreaking, anguished sound Derek thinks he's ever heard. It's a raw, painful, agonizing cry. And then she's sobbing, her fists tangling in his shirt, and she's trying to climb into his lap, trying to get closer.
He pulls her tighter against him, wrapping himself around her. One hand is around her back, one is against the back of her head, and he's rocking her. He doesn't say a word. He just holds her while she finally cries for everything she just lost.
He waits until the hysterical sobbing has turned into soft cries before he pulls her to her feet, puts her in his car and takes her to the hotel. He helps her take her soaking wet clothes off and put on a pair of extra scrubs he found in the back of his car, and he lies with her on the bathroom floor while she alternates between fits of hysteria and emptying her stomach of the copious amounts of alcohol she managed to consume. She's breaking his heart, and he can't help but feel like he's somehow failed her in the most grievous way.
They're lying in bed in the early morning hours when she starts talking. He thought she was asleep. She had curled up on the bathroom floor, with her head in his lap, hours before, and when it didn't appear she was going to be sick anymore, he had lifted her up and put her in bed.
He hadn't really thought about what he was going to do, but the second he had let go of her, she had whispered in the dark, "Please don't leave me," so he had crawled in next to her. He figured she at least deserved to not have to spend the night alone.
He hasn't been able to sleep. Instead, he's just lied there, going over and over every little step of Archer's surgery, wondering again and again if there was something he could have done, something that would have made a difference.
"I need to call Bizzy," she whispers now. "I need to tell her."
She's facing away from him. Derek lifts a hand and places it on her arm, gently rubbing it. "You don't need to worry about that right now."
"She's going to hate me," Addison whispers. "She's going to think it's my fault."
"She's not going to think it's your fault." Derek doesn't really believe that. Addison's mother has a knack for thinking her son is a perfect angel and her daughter is a horrible screw-up.
"And my father …" Derek hears Addison's voice catch. "I don't know if I can tell him. I don't know if I can talk to him. It's been so long …"
Fifteen years. Derek knows this.
"Shhh, Addie. It's okay. You don't have to worry about this now."
Derek keeps rubbing her arm. Addison doesn't say anything else, and he wonders again if she's fallen asleep.
"I fell off my bike when I was seven. Did I ever tell you that?"
Her voice sounds so soft in the darkness.
"No," he answers.
"I did," she says. "But I didn't just fall off my bike. We were at the Vineyard, and Archer and I — we were going downhill, and my back tire came off, and I went over the handlebars, and I scraped up my entire face."
She makes a sound, and Derek can't tell if it's a laugh or a sob.
"Archer picked me up. And he told me everything was going to be okay. And he carried me home.
"He wasn't much bigger than me," she continues. "But he was my big brother, and he knew I was scared. And he carried me home."
She rolls over then, her eyes peering up at Derek. Even in the dark, he can see her tears.
"Who's going to carry me home now that he's gone? Who's going to do that? He's the only one who's ever really loved me."
She's crying again. Really crying. Derek pulls her against him and wraps his arms around her. He kisses her forehead and strokes her hair. But Addison's lost in a memory of a man who'll never hold her again, and Derek knows there's nothing he can do.
XXXXXXX
She gets up in the morning like there's nothing wrong. Derek expects nothing less. He has to go in to check on Jen, his pregnant brain patient, and Addison tells him she'll go with him. She showers and puts back on the only outfit she brought with her after ironing it to ensure she doesn't look anything less than perfect.
She dries her hair and puts her makeup on, and when she asks him if she looks okay, he knows she's asking if you can tell her brother died yesterday. He tells her she looks fine, and she does. He knows she has a headache and she's feeling a little sick from all the alcohol, but you can't tell. She looks perfect, like always. She plasters on a smile and follows Derek to the car.
She doesn't say a word as they ride to the hospital, but when he leaves her at the nurses' station, she touches his arm.
"Thank you," she whispers when he turns to look at her. "For everything you did for me last night. I know you didn't have to. So, thank you."
"You don't have to thank me, Addie," he tells her, and he means it, but he can tell she thinks he's just saying that. He doesn't try to convince her. Now isn't the time, and it really doesn't matter.
It's a long day. His brain patient ends up having complications after all, and he winds up doing two other emergency procedures. It's late, and he thinks everyone is long gone, but as he's pulling on his jacket to leave, he spots her. She's at the same nurses' station where he left her this morning, and when he gets closer, he can see she's doing something on the computer.
"Addison?"
She glances up, startled. "Derek. Hi."
"What are you doing?"
She smiles sadly, a haunted look in her eyes. "Booking a plane ticket. Bizzy wants me to help her with the arrangements."
Derek nods and moves around the desk to peer over her shoulder. "Are Sam and Naomi going with you?"
Addison shakes her head. "They're coming for the funeral. But not before then." She forces a smile. "They have Maya. They need to go be with her first."
"Oh," Derek says.
"It'll be fine. I can handle Bizzy. It's only a couple days. I'll be fine."
Derek studies her. Her hand is shaking.
In an instant, he knows what to do.
He leans over her and gently removes her hand from the mouse. Moving the cursor to the right spot, he changes the number of passengers to two.
Addison frowns. "What are you doing?"
Derek leans closer to her, so he can whisper in her ear. "Well, you asked me last night who was going to carry you home now. And I know that Connecticut is a little far away, and you probably weigh a bit more than you did when you were seven, so while I'm pretty sure I'm not going to actually carry you, you aren't alone. I'm not going to let you go alone."
Addison turns to him then, her eyes wide. "Derek," she whispers. "What are you doing? You don't have to do this."
He smiles at her, and any doubts he might have had disappear in a heartbeat.
"No, I don't have to do this. I want to do this. I want to. Is that okay?"
Her smile is the only answer he will ever need.