Title: Yesterday's Visitor
Author: Half-Human
Summary: Derek speaks with a broken-Addie. Although he tries to make up for what he did, he doesn't—something else comes up.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy and all its wonderful characters belong to the genius Shonda Rhimes and everyone who's helped put this drama together.
Author's Note: This is an extremely weird story. I wrote it while procrastinating around 2 in the morning. Please r/r even though its beyond weird. This takes place at the start of season 3.
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He needed a consult as usual; work was the only reason Derek spoke with Addison. It pained her, to say the least, to communicate with him through medical jargon when what she really wanted to do was address the mess that had become their marriage—if that's what they could still call it—marriage.
"I have to perform surgery on a 6 month-pregnant woman. She has a tumor and because of the danger to the baby we'll need you there in the OR." Addison remained silent, wishing that he needed her. "I need you to look over her charts, tell me what you think." Derek tried to avoid eye contact, which was difficult since Addison kept staring at him, obviously still dealing with their marital situation. "Here," he handed the file to her while looking down and jotting some nonsense in one of his files. She didn't grab it. He pushed his arm further away, gestured for her to take it. "Addison," he said, still flipping through papers.
"Derek, look at me." Addison always thought that she was at her worst, but then she was proven wrong—it always got worse. His indifference was partly responsible for the end of their marriage and now, it had returned. Indifference,--a blatant disregard for her. Derek sighed, brought the file back to his side. "Damn it Derek, look at me!" Addison felt herself redden and felt a familiar knot forming in her throat.
"Addison, we are on duty. Not now," was all Derek could say. He put the file on the desk. "Take it," he said and began to walk away.
"No!" she cried, and stepped in front of him. She put her hands on the side of his face and forced him to look at her. "Look at me Derek. Think about what you are doing, about what you have done. Twelve years Derek, twelve. Twelve years of waking up and looking into these eyes, twelve years of waking up at dawn to open Christmas presents, twelve years of Sunday breakfast at Café Swish, anniversaries at Tavern on the Green. Twelve years of laughter…Derek, twelve years of NY marathons and window-shopping and movie nights and fancy parties we hated…Derek can you look at me and tell me you are fine with leaving that? How could you? Does it mean nothing?" Addison felt her mascara running as tears slipped down her cheek. She nevertheless kept her eyes open, trying to reach Derek in any way possible.
"Addison," Derek sighed, he pulled her hands off his face. "I...I can't right now." He lowered his head, but kept his hands around Addie's wrists. He wrapped them around her hands, but Addie quickly shook herself free. She stormed out of the room. "Addison!" Derek called out.
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It happened again: Addison had made a fool of herself. She ran as fast as she could with her newly acquired heals and as she turned the nearest corner, she felt herself slip. The last thing Addison remembered before going unconscious was a familiar ache in the back of her head; a pain in the same place where she had fallen and cracked her head open when she was 13 years old.
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Derek paced the room. He felt so sure about leaving Addison, especially when he saw that Addison had hosted Mark, but now, he thought again. He thought about what she had said, and he thought about her current condition. She had never looked so worn in her life. Not even back in med school during finals, or when she lost a patient she'd grown attached too. It was a different Addie that came before him, an Addie that scared him and reminded him that he was also responsible for his failed marriage. He picked up the file on the desk; she had run off with out it. He decided that maybe he could talk with her, figure out something. Honestly, he was thoroughly lost.
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As Derek stepped out into the hall he heard the cries of a young girl. As he turned to walk down the hallway he noticed a young girl crouched on the floor.
"Are you ok?" Derek asked, kneeling down beside her. She had her face down and was covering her head with her hand. Her long reddish hair covered her face.
"Oouuuch, it hurts!" she whined. Derek gently removed her hand from the back of her head and noticed blood all over it. She was covering a huge gash.
"Sweetie, were are you're parents? I think you really need to get this cleaned up." Derek looked around and saw no one near bye. "Can I get some help here!" No one. "Ok, I'm going to need you to get up. Can you do that?" Derek asked. The girl slowly rose. Based on her height, he'd say she was fifteen, but her composure and voice suggested a much younger age.
"Stupid Leeroy and his waxed floor," she wined.
"Sweetie, who brought you here? How did you get here?
"I don't know," she whined, " I must've passed out at Leeroy's. We were practicing at his place and…ouuwww!" Derek placed his hand firmly over the gash; it was bleeding profusely.
"Sorry, I have to place pressure on it. Come with me." The girl walked down the hallway head facing the ground as Derek held his hand firmly in place on the back of her head. He stepped into an empty examination room and told her to sit on the exam table. He quickly replaced his hand with some gauze to temporarily hold the bleeding. "Hold this here, tightly and press hard." The girl complied and Derek gave a sigh of relief. He had left a trail of blood on his way to the room. " Ok, how old are you Sweetie?" Derek asked, reaching for the nearest phone.
"Thirteen and three quarters," she responded. Derek smiled; he remembered how desperately he wanted to get older when he was young.
"That's a good age," he said, holding the phone to his ear. "You can lift you're head now, just as long as you keep your hand pressed against your head." The girl pushed her hair out of her face and lifted her head as Derek was about to dial the front desk.
Derek dropped the phone.
He stared at the young girl on the examination table. The hair, the eyes, there was something about that girl. Derek stepped up to her slowly.
"What?" she asked, revealing shiny braces with colorful rubber bands. Derek stepped up to the young teen and examined her features.
"You're creeping me out," the girl said, "I know it feels real bad, but I'm not going to die right?" Derek was lost in the girl's eyes-- their familiarity overwhelmed him. "Am I going to die!" The girl cried out a few seconds later, clearly frightened. Derek was shaken from his thoughts. He shook his head 'no' slowly and swallowed hard.
"Sweetie, um…can you please tell me you're name?" Derek asked slowly.
"Addison, Addison Forbes- Montgomery, but people call me Addie." Derek nearly fell back. He looked at her and thought 'what the hell is happening.' He was right, that hair, those eyes, her unnatural height. He continued to step back until he ran into a chair and nearly fell.
"Haha, you're weird!" the girl giggled, "Now please. Take care of me! I'm bleeding out here!"
Derek couldn't stop staring. Eyes wide, mouth agape, he couldn't stop thinking, 'what the hell is going on?! Of all the things that happen here at Seattle Grace….'
"I'm going to have to sit down," he murmured, before lowering himself on the floor.
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I know, bizarre. But please read/review. :D