A/N: I've been working on this one-shot in bits and pieces for a while now. It's loosely based on Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" (because who doesn't love that song?). I hope you like it, and I'd love to hear what you think. Thanks so much for reading!
Shadows Searching in the Night
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere.
It started with a phone call. Derek sounded desperate. He said that he needed to get away, and he had asked her to come with him. She didn't ask questions, mostly because she didn't need to (it had always been one of the greatest strengths and weaknesses of their marriage). He didn't mention work or Meredith or anything else; he just kept repeating that he needed to get away, and that he'd like it if she came with him.
She knew she should have said no. After all, they were divorced. She had moved to L.A. And she owed him nothing. But she knew the feeling – the need to get away. And it was Derek, so she said yes.
He was just as vague on the details.
"Where should we meet?" she had asked.
"Anywhere."
But they couldn't meet in Seattle – that was his turf. And they couldn't meet in L.A. – that was hers. So, anywhere wasn't really an option.
So, they settled on neutral territory – Portland, Oregon. He was going to drive out there, and she was going to fly. Except, with the short notice he had given her, all of the flights from L.A. to Portland were booked. She was tempted to call off the whole trip; but Derek had sounded so desperate, and she couldn't do that to him. She had already hurt him enough for one lifetime…they had hurt each other enough.
So, she bought a train ticket to Portland. Not quite anywhere, but close enough.
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere.
He hadn't expected her to say yes. He hadn't even expected her to answer his call. And he wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't. He had spent years being inattentive when she needed him. He had ignored her calls. She owed him nothing.
Except, by some miracle, she had agreed to meet up with him; and he was glad.
So, he hopped in his car, not bothering to tell anyone but The Chief that he wouldn't be at work for a couple of days, and made the drive to Portland.
A singer in a smoky room;
A smell of wine and cheap perfume.
The dingy hotel bar that they met up in wasn't Addison-and-Derek in the slightest. Addison-and-Derek used to go to five-star restaurants with top-shelf liquor, menus that weren't in English, and soft, understated music playing in the background.
This wasn't that. But, somehow, it felt right.
"Thanks for meeting me here," Derek said, taking a sip of his scotch.
Addison nodded mutely, still trying to figure out how to navigate this uncharted territory between her and Derek. It all felt so new – different, yet familiar.
"Derek, what are we doing here?" she asked, going for the jugular. But as she took in the look on his face, she knew it was too much too soon. So she changed the topic to something more neutral...to a topic that had always been easy and uncomplicated for them. "How's work?"
Derek gave her an appreciative smile. "Work's good," he nodded. "Work's very good. How's work going for you?"
"Different," Addison admitted. "Slower."
"You don't like it," Derek assessed with a knowing smile.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
"I guess I'm still adjusting," Addison conceded diplomatically.
"Do you ever think about coming back?" Derek asked.
"To Seattle?" Addison asked in surprise.
Derek nodded.
Addison shook her head. "No. Seattle never felt like home to me. It's your place…not mine."
He was about to disagree with her. He was about to tell her that Seattle could have been her place. He was about to tell her that he wasn't even sure anymore if it was really his place. But he was interrupted by their bartender, who was pushing two reddish-colored shots towards them.
"On the house," the bartender smiled.
"Oh, um, thanks," Addison stammered, looking at the shot glass in front of her hesitantly. "What are they?"
"Tequila, whiskey, cinnamon schnapps, and Tabasco sauce," the bartender smiled. "It's called Satan's Revenge."
Addison looked at Derek warily. "Are you sure you didn't order these?"
"Addison, you were married to me for eleven years. Have you ever once seen me drink anything even remotely close to this?"
"No," Addison admitted with a chuckle.
"The name is fitting though," Derek smirked.
"Hey, you're the one who asked me to come here with you," Addison pointed out. "Technically I'm doing you a favor."
"Fine, I take it back."
Addison smiled at her ex-husband coyly. "So, uh, are we going to do this?" she asked, gesturing towards their shot glasses.
Derek nodded, as both he and Addison picked up their shot glasses. "Thanks for being here, Addie," he said vulnerably.
Addison gave him a warm smile, and they both tossed back their shots.
"So that was…" Addison trailed off doing her best not to grimace.
"Pretty terrible," Derek filled in.
"And how was Satan's Revenge?" the bartender asked, noticing the empty shot glasses in front of Addison and Derek.
Derek shot Addison a mischievous smile before turning his attention to the bartender. "We'll take two more."
For a smile they can share the night.
Addison ordered the next round of shots.
"Wait," Derek said, just as Addison was about to toss back her shot.
Addison set her untouched shot back down on the bar, and looked at her ex-husband expectantly.
"Um, before we get…before we get too drunk, I was wondering…" Derek trailed off uneasily. He met his ex-wife's eyes and gave her a soft smile. "Spend the night with me, Addie?"
Addison swallowed hard at her ex-husband's words. And despite her better judgment, she found herself returning his smile. "Okay."
They left the round of shots on the bar untouched, and made their way to the front desk of the hotel.
"Hi," Derek greeted the perky woman behind the desk. "We're checking in. The last name is Columbia."
Addison raised an eyebrow. "Columbia?"
"I figured it was common ground," Derek smiled. "You know, since it's where we first met."
Addison gave her ex-husband a slight smile. "How did you know I'd agree to spend the night with you?" she asked, refusing to get lost in old memories.
"I hoped you would," Derek admitted. "But I wasn't sure, so there's a reservation under Montgomery as well."
Addison looked at her ex-husband skeptically. "Really?"
Derek gave her a smug smile. "Maybe. Ask and see."
"So, your room is on the fifth floor," the woman behind the desk cut in. "Just take the elevators to your left. Do you need two keys, Mr. Columbia?"
"Dr." Derek corrected.
"Oh, sorry," the woman apologized. "Dr. Columbia."
Derek looked at Addison, who was still trying to process the scene that was unfolding in front of her, a mixture of confusion and amusement lacing her features. "Addie," he pressed.
Addison looked from Derek to the woman behind the desk. "We'll take two keys," she said.
The woman handed each of them a key, and Derek and Addison made their way towards the elevator.
"You didn't ask," Derek said after a moment. "You didn't find out whether or not there's actually a room reserved under Montgomery."
Addison shot Derek a suggestive smile. "I wasn't really that curious."
The words had barely left her mouth when Derek pushed the stop button on the elevator, and desperately crashed his lips against hers. She responded immediately, kissing him deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. And as they made quick work of undressing each other, unable to hold out until they made it to their hotel room, Addison learned that apparently the elevators at Seattle Grace weren't the only elevators that were aphrodisiacs.
Strangers waiting
They met up again two months later. In Montana this time. She was the one to call him. She had lost a patient – a patient she had grown very attached to – and she didn't know who else to call. He was the one who suggested going away together again. And even though she knew that what had happened that one time in Portland should have ended there, she couldn't bring herself to turn him down.
"Hey, Stranger," she smiled, as he walked into the hotel bar, and sat down next to her.
He smiled at her warmly. "Hey, yourself. What are you drinking?" he asked, gesturing to the two shots in front of her.
"They're called Brain Hemorrhages…and we're drinking them."
Derek chuckled. "Do I want to know what's in them?"
Addison met her ex-husband's eyes and smiled, before shaking her head no.
"Well, okay then," Derek laughed, raising his shot glass.
This time they didn't order more shots.
"Hey, do you want to get out of here?" Derek asked his ex-wife, as he lightly grazed her thigh with his hand.
"Yeah," Addison breathed.
"Good," Derek smiled, as the two of them made their way towards the reception desk. "I only reserved one room this time. I hope that's not a problem."
Addison gave her ex-husband a suggestive smile. "I think we'll manage."
"Can I help you?" the man behind the front desk asked, interrupting Derek and Addison's flirtations.
Derek nodded. "We're checking in. The reservation is under Justin."
"Justin?" Addison asked in surprise. "As in the name of-"
"The first baby you delivered on your own," Derek filled in with a smile. "Yeah."
"Derek," Addison gasped, truly touched by her ex-husband's thoughtfulness. "How did you…how did you remember?"
Derek gave Addison a soft smile. "The same way that you remember the name of the first patient I ever saved."
"Kenneth Williams," Addison inserted easily.
"Exactly," Derek nodded. "There are things about each other that we can't help but know."
Their shadows searching in the night
The sex was different this time. In Portland, it had been desperate, urgent. It was new –different, but familiar.
This time, there was less uncertainty. This was something they both wanted – both planned for, even. It was hot, but it wasn't frantic. It was searching. It was caring…almost. It was remembering how well their bodies fit together…how well they fit together.
Living just to find emotion,
Hiding somewhere in the night.
"Derek," Addison gasped breathlessly, as she felt herself getting close. She hadn't let herself say his name the last time they'd slept together. That would have made things too real. This time, though, she wanted real…even if what they were doing could only happen in some random location in the darkness of their hotel room. It was her warped reality, nonetheless.
Because in this moment, reality didn't matter. It didn't matter that they had cheated on each other. It didn't matter that they were divorced. It didn't matter that he lived in Seattle and she lived in L.A. None of that mattered because, in this moment, none of these things were realities.
In this moment, reality was the smell of his Tom Ford cologne. Reality was the way his skin felt against hers. The way his lips tasted. And the way he felt inside of her.
It may not have been reality, but it was her reality. And when he breathed her name gutturally, she knew it wasn't just her reality. It was theirs.
Payin' anything to role the dice just one more time.
The next time they met up, neither one of them was in a bad place. They just wanted to see each other.
They decided on Las Vegas. Of course, not without some debate first.
"But we don't gamble," Addison pointed out, when Derek had first suggested Vegas to her over the phone. "Not anymore at least."
Derek refrained from pointing out the obvious to her – that them sneaking off together was a gamble. That there was certainly more on the line with their little rendezvous than there ever would be at any slot machine or poker table.
But, at the same time, he got where she was coming from. Over the years, they had lost far too much and hurt each other far too badly on stupid gambles that didn't pan out. And maybe that's why Addison claimed that neither of them gambled anymore – because while them sneaking off together was a gamble, it was a calculated one.
He knew that neither of them was being unfaithful – although neither verbally confirmed it to the other. But he never needed to ask Addison if she was seeing anyone in LA; because he knew her, and he knew she wasn't. And maybe that's why Addison never asked about Meredith; she knew she didn't need to. And she was right. Derek had ended things with her for good immediately after returning home from Portland – "It's over…so over." Or something equally tactless.
So they decided to meet up in Vegas – though neither had any intention of gambling. Truth be told, neither had any intention of leaving their hotel room. After all, there was more than one way to get lucky in Sin City.
Some will win. Some will lose. Some are born to sing the blues.
"This is a nice room," Addison approved as she took in her and Derek's Vegas hotel suite.
"I'm glad you like it, Dr. Christmas."
Addison shook her head at the name that Derek had made their reservation under.
"What?" Derek asked innocently. "We love Christmas."
Addison was about to remind him that they used to love Christmas, but the point of their getaway wasn't to fight with each other, or bring up their past indiscretions. So she let the comment slide.
"So, what do you want to do first?" she asked.
"I'm actually a little hungry," Derek admitted. "Feel like ordering room service?"
Addison nodded. "Yeah. I do."
Derek smiled as he moved to retrieve the room service menu. "Whoa," he chuckled. "It looks like whoever had this room before us didn't leave it much either."
Addison shot him a confused look; and he held up the baby name book that was sitting next to the room service menu. "I can't imagine it would be much fun being pregnant in Vegas," he mused.
"Yeah, probably not," Addison agreed half-heartedly, as she thought about her own infertility. She'd gladly be pregnant in Vegas if it meant that she could get pregnant.
"Hey, what names do you like?" Derek asked suddenly, as he joined her on the hotel's king-sized bed, baby name book in hand, all thoughts of food apparently forgotten.
"Derek, why are we doing this?"
"I don't know," Derek smiled, as he began thumbing through the book.
"Well," Addison began hesitantly, thinking back to previous times that they'd had this conversation – early in their marriage when things were still good between them. "You always said you liked the name Abigail."
Derek chuckled. "I did say that. But then you'd always remind me that Abigail usually gets shortened to Abby…and you hated the idea of Abby and Addie. So that name's out."
Addison smiled, touched that he remembered. But, at the same time, a part of her felt confused. She and Derek weren't together. And while their weekends away together were fun, they weren't a couple, and they certainly weren't having children together. So why did he care what names she liked? And why was he so opposed to a name that clashed so horribly with her name?
"So," Derek pressed, cutting into Addison's thoughts. "What names do you like?"
"It doesn't matter, Derek."
"Come on, Addie."
"Derek, this conversation is pointless."
"Why? Because we're talking about hypothetical children?"
Addison sighed heavily. She didn't have to tell him. They weren't married. She didn't have to share anything with him. Except over the past few months, he had become her source of comfort. Over the past few months, things had begun to feel the way they had when they were first married.
"Any discussion that I ever have about children will be hypothetical," she admitted, refusing to look him in the eye. "I can't have kids."
"How-"
"Naomi told me."
Derek felt his heart sink in his chest. Her confession was crushing. But even more crushing was the sound of her voice. To anyone who didn't know her, it would sound like she had made her peace with her infertility. But Derek knew her, and he knew that while her voice may have sounded unaffected, she was anything but.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. He knew that, over the years, she'd gone back and forth about whether she wanted kids, but he always had a feeling she'd have them. He always had a feeling they'd have them.
"It's okay," she said quickly.
"No," he disagreed, wrapping his arms around her. "It's not okay. Because you've devoted your life to bringing babies into the world. Because you'd make an incredible mother. And the fact that you can't have kids…that's not fair."
She looked up and met his eyes, hesitating a moment before kissing him softly. He responded in kind, kissing her tenderly, trying to take away the pain she was feeling…the pain they were both feeling. He knew that Addison's infertility shouldn't be affecting him as much as it was, but her loss somehow felt like his loss; because even after all they'd been through together, she was still the only one he could ever imagine himself starting a family with.
"Hey, Addie, we don't have to do this," Derek murmured softly when Addison began undoing the buttons to his shirt.
"Why not?" Addison asked, in between kisses. "Isn't this why we came here?"
"I…" Derek hesitated, as Addison continued to work on undoing his shirt buttons. "Yeah, I guess," he conceded, expertly unzipping her dress, while she moved on to removing his pants.
This time the sex was intimate. It was caring. And it was comforting. And when they were done, they held each other close, taking comfort in the other's silent embrace.
"I still want a baby," Addison admitted vulnerably after a moment.
Derek nodded as he lazily ran a hand through her red hair. "Yeah, me too."
After that, they stopped using condoms.
Oh, the movie never ends,
It goes on and on and on and on.
They started meeting up more frequently. They got to know the western states pretty well, spending countless nights together in places like Arizona, Texas, and Utah. They never went as Addison-and-Derek. Reservations were always made under code names. They were the Brownstones, the Hamptons, and the Mulligans…never Addison-and-Derek. But as soon as they got into their hotel room, that changed. They dropped the pretenses, and became Addison-and-Derek.
Somewhere along the line, it stopped being about sex. Sex still happened, of course. But it was more than that.
They stopped bothering saying goodbye to each other after each rendezvous. Because they knew it wasn't goodbye. So goodbyes were replaced with other things: 'When's your next day off?' 'Where should we meet up next?' 'When can I see you again?'
Because goodbye was no longer an option – at least, not one they were willing to entertain.
Don't stop believin'.
They both began hoping for an unplanned pregnancy – though neither shared that wish with the other outright. They both wanted a baby. And they both wanted a baby with each other. But more selfishly, they thought that maybe a baby would get them to do the thing they both wanted to do but were to proud to do – settle down together.
Because meeting up every couple of months hadn't been enough. And meeting up every month still wasn't enough. And meeting up more frequently than that was impracticable with work and the distance and everything else.
But a baby could give them an excuse to settle into something more permanent. A somewhat selfish excuse, maybe; but an excuse they continued to hope for nonetheless.
Hold on to that feelin'.
The next time they met up it was on the east coast. Connecticut for Bizzy's funeral.
"Derek, what are you doing here?" Amelia asked her brother in surprise when he joined the group of people that were gathered in the living room of the Montgomery's estate.
"Addison's family was my family," he answered simply. As far as he was concerned, he didn't owe anyone an explanation. He knew Addison, Bizzy, and the whole Montgomery family better than all of Addison's L.A. colleagues did combined. And no one was questioning what they were doing there.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"Who? Addison?" Amelia asked in confusion.
Derek sighed in frustration. As if he were honestly there looking for anyone else. "Yes, Addison," he responded with forced politeness.
"She's holed up in her old bedroom. I don't think she's really in the mood to see people."
Derek nodded, before making his way towards Addison's childhood bedroom, not feeling the need to heed Amelia's warning. He was pretty sure it didn't apply to him anyway.
"Addie," he said gently, as he knocked on the door to her room. "Addie it's me, and I'm coming in."
He opened the door to find her sitting on her bed, staring blankly into space. "Addie, I'm so sorry," he whispered, joining her on the bed.
Addison nodded mutely, refusing to meet her ex-husband's eyes. "No one else knows that she committed suicide," she confessed, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead. "I've been telling people it was an aneurism."
"She wanted it that way," Derek assessed knowingly. He knew what had happened. Addison had told him. But he hadn't realized that he was the only one she'd told.
"Yeah," Addison nodded. "She did. And I'm supposed to give her eulogy tomorrow, and I…I…"
"Come back to my hotel with me," Derek interrupted.
"Derek, I can't."
"You need to get away from this, Addie. Just for a couple of hours."
"I can't. I need to be downstairs making small talk with our guests. Or up here writing Bizzy's eulogy, or…or-"
"Or you could come with me," Derek cut in. "Because you're not you right now."
"Of course I'm me," Addison disagreed.
"No, you're not," Derek said softly. "You've got this lifeless, distant look in your eyes, and your hair is pulled back so tightly, I'm getting a headache. So come away with me. Then we can come back here and make small talk…and you can write Bizzy's eulogy. Just…come away with me first."
She cautiously turned to face him, finally daring to meet his eyes; and she swallowed hard at the compassion emanating from them. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's go."
Don't stop believin'.
This time they didn't bother with code names. The hotel reservation was made under Derek Shepherd.
They reached their room, and she immediately crashed her lips against his, kissing him frantically.
"Addison," he breathed in between her desperate kisses. "Addison, we…we don't have to do this."
"No, no, I want to," she murmured as she kissed him deeply. "I want to."
At first, sex was awkward and out of synch. She wanted rough and hard; he wanted slow and gentler. But they eventually found their rhythm, bodies connecting, as she tried to forget, and he tried to help her forget.
When they were finished, they lay together silently, wrapped in each other's arms.
"I love you," Addison confessed vulnerably.
"What?"
"I love you," Addison repeated. "And I know I'm not supposed to. I know we had our chance in New York and then again in Seattle. And what we have now…it's great. But it's not enough. And I want more. And maybe I don't have the right to ask for more, but I want it. And I feel like if I don't ask for what I want, what's the point."
"Addie, I…I want more too. But are you sure…are you sure this doesn't have something to do with Bizzy?"
"It has everything to do with Bizzy. My mother killed herself, Derek. She spent her entire life never saying out loud, 'This is who I am.' 'This is what I want.' And when she finally did get the courage up to go for it, it was too late. She waited too long. I can't make the same mistake."
"I can't either," Derek said softly. He met his ex-wife's eyes and smiled warmly. "I love you, Addie."
Addison smiled at Derek's words. "So, uh…where do we go from here?"
Derek shrugged. "Well, I guess we can start by going back to your family's estate. We'll get through Bizzy's funeral together. And then we can start our new life."
"Where?" Addison asked in confusion. Over the past year, they'd spent a lot of nights in a lot of different places.
"L.A." Derek said decisively.
Addison looked at Derek quizzically. "Are you sure?"
Derek nodded. "I've been doing some research, these past couple of months, and it seems like a great place to live. I mean, you already have the practice out there, and there's a nearby hospital where I can work. And it's the perfect place to raise a family.
"A family?" Addison choked out in surprise.
"You still want kids, don't you?"
"I, yeah. I do. But I, I can't-"
"We'll think of something," Derek promised, kissing her softly.
"Really?" Addison asked uncertainly, meeting Derek's eyes.
Derek nodded before leaning in and kissing her deeply. "I wouldn't bet against us."