Another late night oneshot from yours truly. I'm making this 100 stories by Valentine's Day thing happen. This one is... I don't know about this one. It's not my favorite thing I've ever written, but I like it well enough, I suppose. It's different. It's not terribly sad, but it's not exactly fluffy either. A weird spot for me to be. Anyways...
"Buildings" by Regina Spektor is the inspiration. You should listen to it. It's a beautiful song that has everything to do with this story. Some of the lyrics are the title. (If you follow me on Twitter, I've provided a link.)
I own nothing.
Somehow, Alex has ended up her caretaker. He has no idea how it happened. He suspects it wasn't a spur of the moment thing. A karmic retribution for the lawsuit or something.
He glances over at the practically comatose redhead in the passenger seat and wishes furiously that it were the first time he had seen this. It's not. Somehow he's turned into the guy who shows up miraculously at the end of the night to drive her home. It's not fair. It's been this way since she got divorced.
As usual, he helps her upstairs to her hotel room and into her pajamas. Then she makes it very, very clear that she doesn't feel well, so he sits with her and holds back her hair when she has to throw up.
He had chosen to take her home one night because she looked absolutely horrible and was clearly completely wasted and he didn't trust the world to not take advantage of that. So he had taken her home and taken care of her. She had kissed him but they didn't talk about it because she doesn't remember doing it.
And that is how Alex ended up here. She had pressed her lips against his in a desperate attempt to make a connection and now it's all he can think about. But he's Alex Karev. He's not soft or sweet and there's no way in hell he'd ever flat out tell her how he feels. So instead he shows her in the only way he can think of.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes, crawling back into bed. "You should go."
"It's fine," he replies. "I've got time."
"Why are you so nice to me?"
He shrugs. "I dunno."
"Thanks."
"It's fine."
She's asleep before her head hits the pillow.
0ooo0
It continues like this. Every morning, she reappears shiny and new, as if all of it had never happened. They never, ever recognize that they have contact outside of the hospital when they're at work. Small talk, talk about the hospital and if he tries to push it, he gets back non-sequiturs. They build buildings so tall these days. Deny connection. But she keeps drinking and he keeps taking care of her when she slips too far into excess and can't take care of herself.
The arrangement is fine with him. He's gotten used to the fact that on her nights off he has to be there too. It's not the taking care of her that he cares about.
"Addison?" he asks quietly one night before she's had too much to be able to answer him seriously.
"Mmhmm?" she hums, scanning the bar, looking for something out of sight. She's starting to get distracted and she can feel the alcohol buzzing through her.
He grabs her drink. "You should probably stop."
She frowns and grabs the glass back. "That is mine, Karev. And it's none of your business. Get out of my face."
"Addison-"
"I said leave."
"Becoming an alcoholic isn't going to make you forget Shepherd," he snaps before he goes. "You're pathetic if you think it'll make anything better." He knows it's cruel. But he's hoping to break that shell.
She glares and takes a defiant sip of her drink. He storms away.
And yet somehow he ends up fuming all night, but ends up with her in the passenger seat, driving her home.
"Alex?" she suddenly says.
"Uh huh," he grunts without looking at her.
"I know it's pathetic." Her voice is tiny, barely audible over the sounds of the car running. "I know I'm pathetic."
He fights the urge to comfort her and loses. "I was out of line earlier."
"I'm going to stop. I just need a little more time. So it'll stop hurting so bad."
He nods tersely, agreeing to give her just a little more time.
0ooo0
Months pass. Nothing changes.
"Addison," he always says. "It needs to stop."
"I know," she always replies. Begs. "Just a little more time. Please, Alex? Please." There's always a threat of tears. She knows she's screwed up, but she doesn't know how to begin to fix it.
And he does it. He gives her the time because he can't say no and because he doesn't want to admit that it might be a problem.
0ooo0
He's worried when he's scheduled for the night shift when she's off. The worry has become a natural thing now.
He checks on a couple patients when Meredith finds him. "Um, Alex?"
"Uh huh?" He's distracted and he sounds like it. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be home?"
"It's Addison."
He's not distracted anymore. "What? What's wrong with Addison? Is she okay?"
Meredith takes a deep breath. "She's okay. She's going to be fine, but… It's just… she kind of passed out at Joe's. And I wouldn't be telling you, but I've seen you take her home more than once, so I don't know what's going on there, but I thought you probably would want to know. So I told you."
He doesn't listen to Meredith rambling. He just rushes to where he knows Addison will be. She's lying in one of the hospital's beds, having been delivered there by Meredith and presumably Bailey. He had been pissed the entire way here. Pissed at her for losing control, pissed at himself for letting it get this far. But now, seeing her lying there, looking fragile and broken, he forgets about the anger. There's a deadness in her eyes that makes his heart hurts.
She meets his eyes with a frown. "How did I know you were going to show up?" she questions rhetorically.
"It needs to stop, Addison. Now," he demands.
"I know," she sighs. "I just-"
"No," he cuts her off. "No more time. You don't have any more time. I'm done watching you destroy your life. No more time."
"Alex-"
"My dad was an alcoholic, okay? I practically grew up in a bar. And the thing I remember best about him? My mom screaming when he hit her. So you don't get any more time. I won't let that happen to you. You're going to deal with this now."
She stares at him. And then her bottom lip starts to quaver. "I'm scared," she admits in a voice barely above a whisper.
"I know," he says. "But I'll help you, okay? I'm here."
"Alex, you don't-"
"I do." He approaches her bed. "I can't watch someone else I care about get hurt."
"You-"
"Especially not you."
She nods slowly. "Okay. I'll… I'll get help. But I… I need you, Alex."
"I'm right here, Addison." And then he leans down and brushes her lips with his. "I'm not going anywhere. We'll be okay."
"We," she repeats skeptically.
"Unless…"
"I like it," she decides. "But… but I think I need to do this for me. Not us."
He pulls her close and she buries her face in his shoulder. "It's all you, Addison."
"Hey, Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for not giving up on me."
Any thoughts?
-Juli-