Someone To Stay, a grey's anatomy fanfic

AN: Hey. I don't even know where this oneshot came from. I just had an idea and then I was in a flow and couldn't stop writing. This is what it turned out in the end.

I mentioned it in the summary, but I'm gonna say it again. WARNING FOR CHARACTER DEATH! So, if you might not be able to deal with that, please don't read.

Also, this story is Maddison and MerDer.

The title originates from the song "Someone To Stay" by Vancouver Sleep Clinic. I discovered it through a Maddison fanvid by pheobecolefan on YouTube. The lyrics fit perfectly for Addison and Mark, and in addition it's just beautiful. I listened to it while checking the last few parts for misspelling etc. and somehow it made me cry (I don't know what's wrong with me). So maybe you want to listen to it, too.

That said, we can start.

Someone To Stay

She looked at him, and she felt nothing. You would believe that there was at least something, anything. He was the father of her child, after all. But there was no love, no joy, not even disgust or hatred. Pure nothingness in her heart.

He drew lazy circles on the bare skin of her swollen belly.

She felt ugly next to his muscular form. She had gained 17 pounds, she was fat and clumsy, she couldn't even see her own feet anymore. Also, her skin was like a teenager's. Full of pimples and blackheads that not even her extremely expensive creams could treat.

Why was he even sticking around with her? He could have anyone – no, correction, he had everyone. Seven women in the last month. And those were only the ones she knew about. So why was she still with him?

Right. Because she was scared to be lonely. She couldn't stand the thought alone, so she continued to sleep with the man that had helped her ruin her marriage, and every time he touched her, she couldn't think about anything else than the husband she had lost. 29 weeks since he had left New York, more than six months, and still she had no idea where the hell he was. He could be anywhere.

The baby kicked against Mark's hand and he chuckled. "She's pretty active currently, isn't she?"

"Yeah." She stared at the white ceiling of his bedroom.

"26 weeks tomorrow, right?"

"Right." She bit her lower lip. Why did he know? He was Mark, he wasn't supposed to know, wasn't supposed to care. He should have dumped her after a week and this would have never happened. But wait, she would be lonely, then.

"What's wrong with you?" His voice was deep and she knew exactly what it meant. He wanted her. Not her, Addison, but her, the once attractive woman… Whatever. "You've been pretty… tensed for some time now."

She wanted to yell at him. My husband walked in on me doing his best friend and then left without telling me where he was going! And then I found out that I was pregnant with your baby! Of course I'm tensed! But she didn't because it would probably scare him off. And she would be alone.

It was pathetic, really. He screwed every woman he could find, she was in love with her husband and pregnant with a baby none of them really wanted – even though he reassured her that he wanted it all the time. But what he really wanted was to trump Derek. That's why he was lying, saying I love you, while thinking about other women. And the fear of loneliness was why she responded I love you, too, when really she didn't feel anything at all.

His free hand was traveling up her inner thigh now and she slapped it away. "Stop it." Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible.

"What's going on?"

"It's nothing, I just… I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, but you were about ten minutes ago. Why else would you have-"

She raised her hand to silence him. "Not now, Mark, okay? I'm exhausted, and I have an early surgery tomorrow. Can we just go to sleep?"

"Okay." He pulled her closer to his warm body and she rested her head on his firm chest. This was so incredibly wrong. And yet, being with him seemed to be the only thing to keep her from falling into a deep hole of depression and self-hatred. The only thing that made it possible for her to breathe. Maybe once the baby was born, it wouldn't be so bad, after all.

Addison quietly closed the door behind her, careful not to wake Mark. She didn't want to have to look at him right now. The nausea was killing her anyway and his face really wouldn't help.

She was in the middle of a very long, very hot shower, when he entered the bathroom.

"Morning," he greeted and smiled at her. "Want me to join you?"

She didn't answer, just stared at the tiles on the wall.

"I take that as a yes." He untied his bathrobe when she snapped out of her trance.

"Leave me alone."

"What the hell?" He stepped closer to the glass. "What's wrong, Red? You're so… different."

Oh, really. It sounded sarcastic in her head. But she didn't say it out loud.

He sighed with frustration. "Why do women have to be so complicated? And why did I have to choose the most complicated?"

"You didn't choose me," she snapped.

"Excuse me." He frowned. "I'm standing in front of you, almost naked, while you're in my shower. I think that counts as choosing you."

She shut off the water. "You screwed me like you do with every woman, then I got pregnant, so you're obligated to stay. That doesn't even come near choosing me."

"Women…" he muttered, then looked right into her eyes. "Look. I'm joining you, we take twenty minutes and after that you'll feel a lot better, okay?"

"No. Please, go." She felt tears forming in her eyes. Those damn hormones.

"Addison, you really need to figure out what you want. One minute you scream out my name, the next you're pushing me away again. What am I to you? Is it just the sex?"

"Damn it, Mark, shut up!" She shoved her hand against the glass, then opened it to step out of the shower. "Just… Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Everything. Stop acting like you want me, like you love me, when really you're screwing every nurse in the freaking hospital!" Furiously she grabbed her robe and put it on, covering herself from his gaze.

"I'm not!" He grabbed her sleeve when she wanted to leave the bathroom. "Addison, I love you! Don't you get it?"

"You never wanted me, you never wanted this baby, and now you're stuck. That's what this is about. You don't even know how to love!" The tears threatened to fall, and she blinked rapidly to keep them back.

"You don't know me."

"And that's the problem, Mark." She tried to free herself, but he grabbed her wrist now. She had no chance. "Love is about loyalty and trust, not about sleeping around. It's about knowing one better than you know yourself."

He exhaled audibly. "And what about you?" He raised her arm. "You're still wearing the rings. He's not coming back, you have to get that."

"But maybe he will."

They hadn't spoken a single word since. He had showered while she had gotten ready, they had had breakfast next to each other instead of with each other. She had slammed the door shut behind her, not turning around again.

This was too much for her. She knew she shouldn't have driven. She was exhausted, tired, impatient, even angry. It was why she thought she could still reach the crossroad before the light turned red.

She didn't.

It was different than she would have imagined. She heard a loud bang, was being thrown back into her seat, the safety belt ripping through her abdomen. She felt the pressure around her building when the car was hit by three more, but it didn't hurt. Why the hell didn't it hurt?

Her airways were closing, she knew it. She felt dizzy, her vision was blurry. And then it was gone.

Over.

So over.

Mark reached the hospital almost twenty minutes too late. He had needed some time to calm down after this morning. Addison had been upset and stressed since her husband had left her. He got it. He understood. He had given her time. 29 weeks, to be exact.

But today had topped everything. And he still hadn't figured out what was wrong.

His pager went off just the moment he was entering the lobby. 911 to the ER.

He ran. Maybe this day wasn't so bad, after all.

Just that it was. Even worse. The worst of all the days he had ever had.

It started like many work days.

"Car accident, four cars involved. Three patients are conscious, one unconscious, one died in the field."

He let the words sink in. He could do this. Work would distract him. It was a good thing, right?

He could see two patients. No more. "Where are the other ones?"

A nurse looked at him. "They were rushed into surgery immediately."

He nodded and made his way to the man in bed 4. He had deep cuts in his face that required stitches.

"What happened out there?" Mark asked when he was halfway through the stitches.

"A car passed a red light," The man explained. "I remember that it was a pretty expensive one. Red. Another car hit it from the side, then a third one and finally me."

"Sounds horrible."

"Yeah." The man sighed. "The man on the passenger side of the second car didn't make it. The one from the first car, a woman, was hit pretty badly. I remember that red hair."

Mark flinched.

"I feel so bad for her. She was pregnant."

Needle and needle driver fell to the ground in slow motion. He jumped up, accidentally knocking over a tray, and began to run. He took the stairs, not caring about the confused gazes and voices. He didn't stop until he burst into OR 2.

The body was draped, but the curve of a belly was clearly visible, already prepped in case an emergency c-section was necessary. Dr. Jenny Green – general surgeon – and Dr. Jim Parker – the new Derek – were operating on abdomen and brain at the same time, Dr. Alan Blunt – Addison's shadow – next to the fetal monitor.

"Sloan, you can't be in here. Please leave this OR," Alan ordered.

"Show me her face."

"Mark." Jenny looked at him with sad eyes. "Think rational. We don't need you in here."

"I need to see her!" He felt tears forming in the back of his eyes.

"You can't."

"Hell, I can!" He stormed toward her and took the drape off her face. It was her. "Addison…" His voice was shaking when he carefully touched her cheek. "You're okay. You'll be fine, the baby will be fine. We're all gonna be together, okay?"

He could feel the doctors stare at him. Right. They had never dared to be seen together in public. No one knew that it was his daughter she was carrying.

"How far along is she, Sloan?" Alan asked.

"26 weeks today," he stammered.

"Oh." He could hear the neonatal surgeon exhale audibly. "I assumed she would be at least thirty weeks. Since that's when her husband left."

"It's not Derek's." He grabbed her face in his hands.

"Wait." Jim spoke for the first time. "If you thought she was thirty weeks and now she isn't… Isn't the chance of the baby surviving if you take her out much lower?"

"It is." Alan sighed. "And that's why you have to do everything possible to save Addison."

"Mark, we can't use any distraction." Jenny's voice was soft and firm at the same time. "Leave the OR or we'll call security."

"No!" He caressed Addison's face. "I'll stay."

"You won't."

He had been sitting in the staircase for a while now. It felt like days, to be honest, but he knew it wasn't because they couldn't be operating that long.

This whole time, those six months, he hadn't appreciated what he had. He had cheated, he had lied to her face, he had used her whenever he had needed her, and let her fall down the cliff when he didn't want her anymore. And she had let him. She hadn't complained before this morning. She had pretended to not know about his affairs, she had pretended to be happy with him when she really hadn't because he was hurting her continuously. Hadn't he sworn himself to never do to her what her husband had done – abandon her, use her, blame her, hate her?

And now she was in danger and it had taken him this long to finally figure out his feelings. Maybe he didn't love her. Maybe she was right, and he didn't know what love was. But he wanted her. And he wanted this baby. And he couldn't deal with losing either one of them.

The door to the staircase opened and the tiniest fraction of a second he expected to see Derek's worried face. But no, it wasn't. His best friend was somewhere else, not knowing anything about what was just happening. And Mark missed him. Because in this whole chaos, Addison was always pointing on how she had lost her husband. But she didn't even think about how Mark had lost his best friend.

"Dr. Sloan," the blonde intern said. "Dr. Parker wanted me to find you."

"What does this mean?" Mark's hand was nervously tapping on the wooden conference table, his eyes were prickling with unshed tears.

"It means that the accident and the head trauma that went with it just did too much damage to her brain." Jim's voice was soft, careful, but it sounded like screaming in Mark's head. "I tried everything, Dr. Sloan. Believe me. It was just too late."

"So, what are you saying?"

"There's no brain activity." He paused, then continued even more gently. "Addison is brain dead."

It was like a nightmare. She was pale, and her body looked fragile between all the machines she was attached to. They were beeping and swooshing continuously, and it was driving Mark crazy.

He slowly walked toward the bed and sat down on the uncomfortable chair. Her hand felt slightly cold, but she felt so… alive. So much like Addison.

"Hey, Red," he whispered and kissed her forehead. "Hey little girl." His hand touched her belly. "Addison, I'm sorry. What I said this morning… I didn't mean it, okay?" The first tear fell. "I'm in love with you." More of them followed, dripping onto the blanket that covered her body. "I want you, and I want the baby, and I need you to wake up now."

He knew he was being a fool. Brain dead meant almost dead. Almost no chance for return. Her organs would begin to shut down and no one could stop it.

"What do we do now?" He asked Jim, who was quietly standing on the doorway.

"You know it, Mark. When we shut down the machines, she'll-" He didn't continue.

"And my baby?"

"We'd deliver her first. We'd schedule a c-section. But there's… one problem."

"There are many problems, Jim." He looked back at Addison's limp body. "Countless."

"I know that. But in case we take her off life support, we'd need a signature first. From her husband."

"Well, that's not possible. He's not here." His thumb slowly caressed her belly. "And I have no idea where he went."

"Then try to find him."

Derek almost flinched when his cellphone rang – but only almost because his hand was in the middle of a human brain.

"Dr. Shepherd, you want me to take it?" one of the scrub nurses asked him.

"Who is it?" He pulled his hand out and looked up at her.

"It says Mark Sloan."

Now he flinched, nervously looking at Meredith. She didn't seem to notice. Why the hell would Mark call him? The weeks after he had left New York, he had tried a few times, just like his wife, but both had eventually stopped when Derek had never responded. Why now?

"It's not important. It can wait."

The nurse hung up. Only that it rang again a minute later. And ten for a third and a fourth time.

Derek sighed with frustration. "Please just turn it off."

And it was quiet.

He turned the phone back on after he had successfully finished the surgery and made sure that his patient was fine.

Five more missed calls from Mark.

Derek wouldn't call back, though. Why would he? This man had ruined his life. Whatever he needed, it wasn't important.

He was startled when there was suddenly a voice right beside him. "Are you okay?"

"Meredith!" He quickly put the phone into his pocket.

"Sorry." She smiled. "Just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I am."

"So, who's this Mark Sloan?"

He panicked internally. 27 weeks and two days since he had met her, and she still didn't know anything about his past. "He's… no one. Just a colleague from New York."

"Okay." She took her hair tie out and let her blonde locks fall loosely. "But it seemed urgent."

"It's not."

Mark wanted to cry for the rest of his life. But somehow it didn't work. Maybe he was unconsciously too proud or too male or something, but he wasn't able to shed one more tear.

"Dr. Trier," he called the resident that was passing the open door of Addison's room.

She stopped in her tracks and entered the room. "Dr. Sloan?"

He wanted nothing more than to punch that smile out of her face because this was not the time to smile. He had slept with this girl a few weeks ago, but that didn't give her the right to smile at him in front of his lifeless… whatever she was. His Addison. "I need your phone."

"What?" She looked confused now, her head slightly tilted to one side.

"I need to call someone, so give me your phone."

"Okay…" She gave him the cellphone from her pocket, then left the room when he told her to.

Mark dialed the familiar number. Just a few seconds and the voice was right next to his ear.

"Dr. Derek Shepherd."

He took a deep breath before he spoke. "Derek."

"Mark?" There was just a second of confusion. "What the hell are you pulling off? Stop calling me, I don't want to talk to you!"

"Derek, hear me out, please." He grabbed Addison's hand for some support.

"No! Whose phone is this anyway?"

"Some resident's. Dr. Trier is her-"

"You probably screwed her right before. Is she married, too?"

Mark's hand was tapping the bed now, he wanted nothing more but to scream. "No. Derek, listen-"

"I won't. Stop calling me! You're out of my life, just like she is!" He spat the she with as much disgust as he could manage.

"I need to tell you something." He swallowed, but the lump in his throat stayed. "It's about Addison."

"You're still in contact with her?! You're unbelievable. Disgusting."

"Please-"

"I don't care, Mark. She's not a part of my life anymore."

Mark briefly closed his eyes. "She was in a car accident."

"Well, that's Karma. If she hadn't screwed you-"

"She's not fine, Derek."

He was suddenly very quiet. For a moment they simply breathed in company.

When Mark spoke again, his voice was only a whisper. "She's brain dead."

"She's…" And Mark could hear something shatter on the ground. A glass? Derek's voice was trembling – probably as much as the hand that had dropped the object. "Since when?"

"The accident was this morning. She had surgery, but they couldn't-" His voice broke. "There was no chance. They need your signature."

"I'm taking the next plane to JFK." His voice sounded thick with tears.

"There's something else…"

"I don't care, Mark. I'm coming."

Meredith entered the trailer to find Derek hectically throw things into a bag.

"What are you doing?" She closed the door behind her.

He jumped at her voice and turned around. His eyes betrayed grief and fear. "Meredith," he breathed. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Why are you packing?"

He ran a hand through his messed-up hair. "I have to go."

"Go where?"

"New York."

"Why?" She was panicking internally, but tried to stay calm.

He didn't answer.

"Will you come back, Derek?" Fear was spreading through her own body now.

"I don't know. I don't know!" He walked to the bathroom – or what counted as a bathroom in this home.

"What happened?" She followed him and watched him grab his hair products.

"I'm so sorry." He didn't turn around.

"Stop saying you're sorry without telling me for what."

"I'm married."

There was silence. Scary, uncomfortable silence in which she just stared at his back. "Wha-" She had to swallow hard to hold back the tears.

"We're separated and she's in New York. I left her after I walked in on her screwing my best friend." He passed her to get back to his bag. "I came here, and I met you. I wanted to hate her, but that doesn't matter now."

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because I have to fly to New York to sign a paper, so they can take her off life support."

"She's-" Meredith was breathing hard.

"Car accident."

Mark hadn't even known that he had fallen asleep until his head shot up from where it had been resting on the edge of the bed.

2:43 AM, the digital clock next to him confirmed.

"Oh my God."

So that was what had woken him up. Derek was standing in the doorway, in shock, his hand searching for something to hold on to.

"What happened?" His best friend's voice was quiet, broken.

"She passed a red light. Three more cars hit her and…" And there they were. Tears. Running down his face. "It's my fault, Derek."

"How could it be? You weren't even there."

"She… stayed with me. After you left. She was lonely and grieving, and we tried to support each other, but… we had a fight this morning. She was all mad and stressed. I guess she didn't care about the red light." He let his head fall against the sheets, grabbing her hand again.

"I forgive you."

"What?" He looked up into Derek's face, who had now gotten closer.

"I forgive you for sleeping with her, for being with her. And it's not your fault."

"Derek…"

"It's okay."

"It's not. There's something else." He smoothed the white blanket down so the curve of the belly was visible.

"She's-"

"The fetus survived, so they need to do a c-section, before- you know…"

"How far along is she?" Derek muttered through gritted teeth.

"She's 26 weeks. It's not yours."

"Are you happy?"

Derek looked up from where he was sitting on the floor of the empty ICU room. They had brought Addison into surgery almost half an hour ago and since then neither of them had said a word, both just sitting in silence, Derek on the floor, Mark on the chair.

"What?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"Wherever you're living now, I mean. Without her. Are you happy?" Mark looked pained, tormented.

"I don't know." His head sunk back into his hands. "I just don't know."

At some point, Mark just couldn't wait anymore. Since when did c-sections take this long?

He lifted his body from the uncomfortable chair and watched Derek wince at the sudden movement.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I have no idea." He paused. "You can have it."

"Have what?"

"The chair. You're sitting on the floor."

"I'm fine." He wasn't. But not because of the floor.

Mark sat back down. "Okay."

It felt like an eternity until Addison was brought back into the room.

"What about the baby?" Mark immediately asked.

Alan smiled sympathetically. "The baby pulled through. She shouldn't have been born for another 14 weeks. Some organs are underdeveloped."

"But you can treat her?"

"We'll try everything possible, Sloan."

Mark looked at Derek who was staring at Addison. A nurse entered with the papers, but his best friend didn't even acknowledge it.

"Derek." Mark slowly walked towards the wall and sat down next to him. "They need you to sign."

He looked up with teary eyes. "I can't. I can't kill her."

"You're not." He carefully placed a hand on his arm. "She's already dead. You're just ending her agony."

"Okay."

The pen sliding over the paper seemed incredibly loud in Mark's ears. His body began to shiver. There was no denying now, no going back. She was gone.

The nurse took the paper from Derek's hand. "You want me to walk you through it?"

They didn't. They were doctors. They had done this before. Countless times. They knew what was happening.

Then why was he feeling like he knew nothing at all?

Each of them took one of her hands as she was extubated. There was a long, beeping noise, so loud that he feared it would make him deaf. The nurse shut the monitor off.

"It can take a few minutes to several hours." And with that she left the room, left them alone – the three of them.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to his best friend. "I should have never-"

"It's okay. You have a baby, Mark. That means she left something behind. It's a good thing."

It was November 24th, 2005, 8:02 AM when they declared her dead. The sun was shining through the coldness, sending warmth through the tiny window. Her hand was slowly getting cooler in his, her skin was pale. Her eyes were shut, so he could only imagine which color they would have in this light. Probably blueish. They always were blueish when she was freezing – or maybe it was only in his imagination.

"Did you love her?" he heard Derek's voice.

"I don't know," he whispered back. "That last morning… she said I didn't know what love was. But if what I think love is counts, then yes. Maybe I wasn't in love with her, but I did love her in my own way." He felt tears rising in his eyes. "I know you were as deeply in love with her as one could possibly be. Even if you didn't show it those last few months. And I'm sorry I destroyed that. She was always yours, from the moment you met her for the first time, you were the only one for her."

"What you did, Mark… It doesn't matter now. Not anymore. And when this is over, I want you in my life again. And your baby if she pulls through."

Four Years Later

Mark flinched when the doorbell rang. Slowly he got up from the couch and opened.

"Hey, Mark." Derek smiled at him, then stepped aside to let the heavily pregnant woman next to him in, first.

"Derek. Meredith." He closed the door behind him and watched his best friend help Meredith put off her shoes.

"Jo!" he called and not even five seconds later the little girl stormed into the entrance room.

Joanne Addison Montgomery Sloan. Exactly four years old today. Red hair, grey eyes. She looked so much like the mother she had never met.

"Uncle Derek! Mer!" Jo hugged their visitors, then looked up at them with pride. "I'm four!"

"We know." Derek laughed, then mouthed at Mark: "She's perfect."

Mark grinned, even prouder than his daughter – if that was possible. "I know."

Back in the living room he lit the candle that was sitting on the commode, next to it the most beautiful picture of Addison he could find. It had been about six years ago, Christmas Eve. She was smiling, she was happy, she was the Addison he remembered.

Maybe she wasn't physically present, but this Mark knew: she would always be around in her own way. In the pictures, in their memories, but most importantly in the daughter she had blessed him with.

The girl that was now impatiently tugging on his sweater. "Daddy, they brought me presents!" She announced. "You comin'?"

"Of course."

He always would. He had promised himself that he would never leave her, he would always come back, always be there.

No matter what happened.

She would always be their little girl.

It's depressing, I know. But I need that sometimes. Maybe all of us do.

I would be so happy to hear what you think.