A/N: I hope everyone's having a great holiday season! I couldn't resist writing an Addison/Derek Christmas story, and Taylor Swift's song, "Back to December," seemed appropriate for this couple. I hope you like it, and as always, thanks so much for reading! Happy holidays!
Back to December
I'm so glad you made time to see me.
How's life? Tell me, how's your family?
I haven't seen them in a while.
"Thank you for coming," Addison said quietly, as she opened the door to her hotel room, and let Derek inside.
Derek shrugged indifferently.
"Do you want a drink?" Addison offered, flitting towards the mini-fridge in her hotel room, doing her best to ignore the painfully obvious fact that Derek looked like he'd rather be anywhere other than where he was right now – with her, in her Archfield hotel room.
"I guess," Derek shrugged.
Addison quickly poured two glasses of scotch, and handed one to Derek.
"Thank you," Derek nodded, accepting his glass of scotch, and taking a long sip.
Addison swallowed hard, taking a long sip of her own scotch to buy herself some time.
"I thought we should talk," she began cautiously. "I've been in Seattle for three days, Derek, and you've barely said two words to me. You won't even look in my direction."
"I don't have anything to say to you," Derek responded icily. He looked at Addison pointedly. "What are you expecting me to say to you?"
"I don't know, Derek. You could yell at me for sleeping with your best friend. We could talk."
"Talk?" Derek shot back angrily. "We have nothing left to talk about."
"Then why did you bother coming here tonight, Derek? Why did you come here tonight if you had no intention of talking to me?"
"I don't know," Derek admitted, before draining the rest of his scotch. "I honestly don't know, Addison."
"Look, Derek," Addison began gently, picking up the scotch bottle, and refilling her husband's glass. "Let's talk about you. Let's talk about us."
"I don't want to talk about me," Derek muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "And as far as I'm concerned, there is no us."
"Fine, Derek," Addison sighed. "How's your family doing?"
"What?" Derek asked in confusion. "Where did that come from?"
Addison shrugged. "You don't want to talk about you, and you don't want to talk about us, so I thought we could talk about your family. I haven't seen them in a while, and I miss them. How are they?"
"Fine, I guess."
"Fine, you guess?" Addison asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I don't know, Addison. I've only spoken to them once or twice since I left New York."
Addison nodded mutely. Honestly, she wasn't surprised by Derek's answer; she had always been the one who had made spending time with Derek's family a priority.
"You're not honestly going to stay here in Seattle, are you?" Derek asked, cutting into Addison's thoughts.
"I don't know," Addison admitted. "I prefer Manhattan to Seattle. But you're here and…and I don't know where we stand." She met her husband's eyes. "Where do we stand, Derek? Or at the very least, where do you stand?"
You've been good, busier than ever.
We small talk; work and the weather.
"Where do I stand?" Derek asked, weighing his wife's question carefully. "I like Seattle," he confessed after a moment. "Work here's good…very busy. I like Seattle. I like the land. I like the rain."
"You like the rain?" Addison asked in astonishment. "I can't imagine that Seattle rain lends itself to many good hair days."
Derek shrugged indifferently. In all honestly, he had been forced to switch hair gels since moving out to Seattle because the stuff he had used back in New York was as good as useless against Seattle's incessant rain. But he wasn't about to tell Addison that.
"I like the life I have out here," Derek said finally.
Your guard is up and I know why.
Because the last time you saw me
Is still burned in the back of your mind.
The words burned in Addison's ears. Derek liked his new life Seattle. He liked the flannel and the fishing and, of course, his intern. But Addison could also read the subtext of her husband's words – he liked the fact that his life in Seattle didn't include her. It didn't include her infidelity – him finding her and Mark's naked bodies entwined on the flannel sheets of their mahogany sleigh bed. It didn't include his indifference. It didn't include his past. Their past.
So this is me swallowing my pride,
Standing in front of you saying, "I'm sorry for that night."
"Look, Derek," Addison began, swallowing thickly. "I know that there's nothing I can say to make things better, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for that that night."
"Forget it, Addison."
"No. No, I don't want to forget it. Because we're Addison-and-Derek, and we've had too many good memories to just forget it."
Derek sighed heavily. "Are you honestly going to play the 'we've had too many good memories' card? I thought you said you didn't come to Seattle to reminisce over old wedding photos, get drunk, fall into bed, and make me realize I can't live without you."
"I didn't," Addison insisted. "But do you remember that one Christmas?" she asked, her voice softening. "You know…the one where your entire family spent Christmas day at our place?"
And I go back to December
"Derek Christopher Shepherd!" Addison's voice rang out from the living room of their brownstone.
Derek cringed slightly, knowing that Addison's use of his middle name was never a good sign. He made his way into the living room, and offered his wife his most endearing smile. "Is everything okay?" he asked charmingly.
"No," Addison shot back. "Everything is not okay." She looked at her husband pointedly. "Would you mind explaining to me why there are ashy boot-prints leading from the fireplace to the Christmas tree?"
"Oh," Derek grinned. "I did that. I thought our nieces and nephews would like it…you know, because it would look like Santa Claus was here."
"Derek, this carpet wasn't cheap," Addison reprimanded, looking down at the expensive, cream-colored carpet beneath their feet. "You better hope those boot-prints come out."
"They'll come out," Derek assured his wife, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"They better," Addison muttered. "For your sake, they better come out."
They didn't come out.
"Hey, look on the bright side," Derek reasoned, as he and Addison desperately, but unsuccessfully, tried to remove the ashen boot-prints from their carpet, after everyone else had left, "at least the kids loved it."
Addison glared at her husband angrily.
"Addie, I messed up," Derek conceded guiltily. "I'm sorry. But if it's any consolation, I always hated that carpet."
"Are you trying to be funny?" Addison asked, folding her arms across her chest in annoyance.
"No," Derek insisted quickly, shaking his head. "No. I honestly never liked that carpet."
Addison sighed heavily. "I did."
"I know you did," Derek said gently. "And that's why I never said anything about how much I hated it. But I am sorry," he said, taking his wife's hands in his. "And I promise you that I'll never pull something like this again, okay?"
Addison met her husband's eyes and smiled. "I'll tell you what," she bargained. "The next time you do this, just run it by me first."
"What?" Derek asked in confusion. "What do mean by next time?"
Addison smiled. "The idea was kind of cute," she admitted. "And you're right, our nieces and nephews really did love it…and I…I guess I was kind of hoping you'd do it again for our kids one day."
"Really?" Derek breathed, a smile spreading across his face.
"Yeah," Addison nodded, leaning in and kissing her husband softly.
"I love you, Addie," Derek smiled, when he and Addison broke apart. "And I really am sorry about the carpet. I know you loved it."
"I did love it," Addison admitted, before wrapping her arms around her husband, and holding him close. "But I love you more."
"That was a long time ago, Addison," Derek said icily, ripping Addison from her thoughts. "Things change."
"I know," Addison nodded. "But we could get back to that. We were married for eleven years. Eleven years, Derek. That's eleven Thanksgivings, eleven birthdays, and eleven Christmases. I just…I know you want a divorce. But before you sign those papers, just…think about it. Things weren't always bad between us."
Derek sighed heavily. "I'll think about it," he muttered, more desperate to put an end to the conversation than anything else. "I should probably go."
"Yeah," Addison nodded sadly. "Okay." She knew that him spending the night was a long shot; but she couldn't help hoping that he might. "So," she recovered as cheerfully as she could. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Derek hesitated. As much as he hated to admit it, reminiscing over that one Christmas had weakened his resolve. Earlier that morning, he was one-hundred percent certain that he wanted a divorce; but now he felt himself wavering. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to stay with Addison in her hotel room a little longer…maybe reminisce about another Christmas together. But he knew he couldn't do that. Addison's actions were unforgivable, and he couldn't – he refused – to let a couple of good memories make him change his mind about her and their marriage.
So he did the only thing he could do. "Yes, Addison," he said, using the same indifferent tone he'd used with her since she'd arrived in Seattle, "I'll see you tomorrow."
These days, I haven't been sleeping,
Staying up, playing back myself leavin'.
When your birthday passed and I didn't call.
"You look like you haven't slept in weeks," Addison assessed, as she let Derek into her L.A. beach house, taking in his droopy eyes and defeated posture.
"That's an accurate statement," Derek nodded.
"Derek, what are you doing here?" Addison asked, confused by her ex-husband's random appearance on her doorstep.
Derek sighed heavily. "I just…I keep thinking about what happened in New York…and how I left things. And I keep thinking about what happened in Seattle…and how you left. And I can't sleep, Addison. I keep thinking about us."
"Derek, there is no us," Addison pointed out. "We're divorced. I moved to L.A. We-"
"You turned forty this year," Derek cut in, completely changing the topic. "You turned forty, and I didn't call."
"Derek, you didn't have to call me on my birthday. We haven't celebrated my birthday together in years."
"I should have called," Derek insisted.
"And I should have called you for your birthday," Addison admitted vulnerably. "I know that forty-one's a big one for you."
Derek swallowed hard at this, touched that Addison had remembered. Several years ago, he and Addison had found themselves lounging in the living room of their brownstone, splitting a bottle of merlot after a long week of work. They had been making light, easy conversation about their coworkers and their recent surgeries, when the conversation suddenly took a more serious turn. One of them (he couldn't remember who) asked the other what their biggest fear was. Oddly enough, neither of their fears were work-related, and both of their fears had to do with their parents. Addison was afraid of turning into her mother. And he was afraid of turning forty-one – because that was the age his father was when he had died.
He quickly reassured Addison that she wasn't – and never could be – Bizzy. And she promised him that she would make his forty-first birthday special. They'd honor his father by going to a Yankees' game and cheering on his father's favorite team, and then they'd come back home, and find other ways to celebrate.
"You know, I watched the Yankees' game on your birthday," Addison confessed, cutting into Derek's thoughts. "I, uh, I watched it on TV."
Derek smiled at his ex-wife warmly. "I wanted to watch it," he choked out, his eyes clouding over. "I just…"
"You had to work?" Addison filled in.
Derek shook his head. "I was planning on taking off. But the hospital…my coworkers…they insisted on throwing me a birthday party. And they wouldn't take no for an answer. Richard says they're all worried about me."
Addison nodded sympathetically, knowing that a big, elaborate birthday party was probably one of the last ways that Derek had wanted to celebrate his forty-first birthday.
"Did you talk to Meredith about it?" she asked gently. "About turning forty-one? About your dad?"
Derek shook his head. "No. And it doesn't matter because she and I aren't together anymore."
"Oh," Addison gasped in surprise. "I, uh, I'm sorry."
"Addie," Derek said softly. "We could make it work this time."
But as he took in the hesitant look on her face, he knew what she was thinking about. And he hated himself for it.
And then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept into my mind.
You gave me all your love, and all I gave you was "Goodbye."
Truth be told, he didn't blame her for hesitating. She had come to Seattle looking to repair their marriage, but he was uninterested, inexcusably indifferent. And then he slept with Meredith on prom night. He had been too angry and scared and proud to give his and Addison's marriage another chance back in Seattle; why should she trust him now?
So this is me swallowing my pride,
Standing in front of you saying, "I'm sorry for that night."
"Look, Addie," Derek began, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "I thought you should know…I want you to know…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for that night. What happened at the prom shouldn't have happened, and I'm sorry."
"Derek, we don't have to talk about this," Addison said quietly, desperate to avoid talking about what had easily been one of the worst nights of her life.
"I just," Derek choked out. "I wasn't thinking, Addison. And I know I hurt you. But I want to fix it. I want to fix us."
"Derek…" Addison trailed off sadly. "I think we're beyond repair."
"No," Derek insisted. "No. We…we could..." he trailed off, struggling to put his feelings into words. "You know, it's almost Christmas," he recovered, changing the topic.
Addison raised an eyebrow. "It's the middle of October," she disagreed. "Why are we talking about this?"
"It's just, it's almost Christmas," Derek repeated. "And I keep thinking about the Columbia tree. And how it's not Christmas without the Columbia tree."
"So decorate a Columbia tree," Addison suggested.
"No. Not without you," Derek insisted. And a small part of Addison had to admit she was relieved to hear Derek say that.
"Hey, do you remember our first Columbia tree?" Derek asked, his eyes softening.
Addison did her best not to smile at the memory.
"It's okay to smile, Addie," Derek said, gently placing a hand on his ex-wife's shoulder. "I smile whenever I think about it."
And I go back to December.
"Merry Christmas Eve," Derek grinned, crawling into his and Addison's bed, and greeting his girlfriend, who was just waking up, with a gentle kiss.
"Ugh," Addison groaned tiredly. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon," Derek answered, glancing at the clock on the nightstand.
"What?" Addison asked in surprise. "I slept until noon? How long have you been up?"
"I just got up a half hour ago," Derek reassured his girlfriend. "And it's perfectly normal that we slept in. We just got off a whole week of exams."
"I guess," Addison conceded, stifling a yawn. "It's just…I had so much planned for today. We still need to wrap Christmas gifts for your family and my family before tomorrow, and I was hoping to sneak in a manicure. Oh, and we really should decorate our tree."
Derek chuckled at Addison's mention of their Christmas tree. They had bought a tree together earlier in December, but med. school and exams and other distractions had kept them from decorating it. Now it was the day before Christmas, and their tree was still undecorated.
"I wonder if stores still have Christmas decorations so late in the season," Addison mused.
"I'm sure they do," Derek reassured his girlfriend. "They have to."
They didn't. None of the stores that they went to had Christmas decorations. They were all sold out. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and eventually they found a place that wasn't sold out of Christmas decorations – their campus bookstore.
But unfortunately, the only Christmas decorations that the Columbia University bookstore sold were Columbia University Christmas ornaments. Sure, the ornaments were tacky and overpriced, and only came in Columbia blue and white. But they were better than nothing.
So, they did the only thing they could do, given the situation: they bought a bunch of Columbia University ornaments, brought them home, and started decorating.
xxxxx
"It looks horrible," Addison shuddered, as she and Derek stepped back to look at the Christmas tree that they'd just decorated.
"It doesn't look that bad," Derek disagreed.
"Der, it looks like Columbia University threw up all over our Christmas tree.
"I like it," Derek insisted, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. "But next year, let's add blue and white lights."
Sure enough, the following year, they took Derek's advice and added blue and white lights to what they affectionately began calling the Columbia tree. And it became a Shepherd tradition. Each year, in addition to decorating a traditional Christmas tree, Addison and Derek also decorated a smaller, blue and white Columbia tree.
"I'm sorry I didn't help you decorate the Columbia tree last December," Derek apologized, ripping Addison from her thoughts.
Addison looked at her ex-husband in surprise, as she thought about last Christmas – the Christmas that Derek had told her that he had fallen in love with Meredith. At that point, Addison was still under the impression that she and Derek were trying to fix their marriage; so she had bought and decorated a tiny Columbia tree (it had to be tiny to fit in Derek's trailer). Derek never acknowledged the tree, and Addison had assumed that he hadn't noticed it, or didn't care.
"Addison, I –"
"Derek, you're trying to rewrite history," Addison cut in gently. "You weren't happy in New York. You weren't happy with me in Seattle. You wanted your freedom from Satan, and you got that."
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you,
Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine.
"And I'm miserable," Derek confessed. It was the truth. Sure, at first, his freedom from Addison had been heavenly. But it had quickly turned into his own personal slice of hell.
"I miss you, Addison," he admitted vulnerably. "And I…I wish I would have done things differently back in New York and Seattle."
"Derek, it takes two people to ruin a marriage. We were both responsible."
"I know," Derek nodded. "But we're not those people anymore, Addison. We could try again…for real this time."
Addison looked at her ex-husband hesitantly. She had to admit, a part of her was tempted. But a larger part of her had already been hurt by Derek Shepherd enough times for one lifetime, and she was just starting to put her life back together.
"I'm sorry, Derek," she said quietly. "I can't."
I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't.
So if the chain is on your door, I understand.
October turned into November. And November turned into December. And, suddenly, it was Christmas Eve. And Addison felt guilty. She knew that she had been well within her rights when she turned Derek down when he had asked her for another chance. She was trying to move on; and she was pretty sure that falling back into Derek's arms would be the opposite of that. But ever since Derek's visit, she'd found herself unable to stop thinking about him…unable to move on.
And that's how she found herself booking a last minute flight, on Christmas Eve morning, from Los Angeles to Seattle.
By the time she had reached Seattle, later that evening, she was having second thoughts. She hadn't called Derek to tell him that she was coming. And he might not want to see her. After all, she had rejected him when he'd asked her for another chance.
It had been months since they'd last spoken; things could have changed. Maybe Derek had gotten back together with Meredith. Or maybe he was dating someone completely new. Maybe he was still single, but was no longer interested in rekindling things with her. Maybe he'd want nothing to do with her. And if that was the case, it would hurt. But Addison would understand.
She took a deep breath, and ran a hand through her hair, before knocking on the door to her ex-husband's trailer.
Derek answered, clad in sweatpants and an old Columbia sweatshirt, a tumbler of scotch in his hand. "Addison," he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
But this is me swallowing my pride,
Standing in front of you saying, "I'm sorry for that night."
"I, um," Addison breathed. "I…I thought you should have this," Addison said, holding up the Columbia University Christmas ornament in her hand.
Derek accepted the ornament and smiled. "I didn't buy a tree this year," he confessed sadly.
"I didn't either." She met her ex-husband's bright blue eyes, and was instantly lost in them. "I'm sorry, Derek. For everything."
"I'm sorry too," he apologized. "For everything." He leaned in and kissed Addison softly…hesitantly, his heart soaring when he felt her respond in kind.
"I missed you," he breathed when they broke apart. "I missed us."
"I did too," Addison agreed, a soft smile spreading across her face. She leaned in and kissed her ex-husband deeply, running her hands through his wavy hair, tasting the scotch that was lingering on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and not breaking the kiss, led them over to the bed.
"Addie," he breathed, reluctantly, but purposely, pulling back from a heated kiss. "Do you want me to book us a room at the Archfield tonight?" He knew how much she hated the trailer.
Addison shook her head. "No, that's okay."
"Are you sure?"
Addison nodded before meeting her ex-husband's eyes. "I still hate the trailer," she admitted. "But right now, I don't care where we are; I just want to be with you."
I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright.
"I think I should move to L.A.," Derek murmured, as he lay in bed with Addison, a couple hours later, gently running his fingers through her sex-tousled hair.
"Derek, you don't have to do that."
"Why not? Are you suggesting a long distance relationship?" Derek asked in confusion. "Because I think we may be a little old for that."
"That's not what I meant," Addison chuckled. She softly caressed her ex-husband's cheek and sighed. "I don't like L.A.," she admitted quietly.
"Really?" Derek asked in surprise. "But I always got the impression that you loved it."
Addison shook her head. "I lied. The truth is work's slow. And L.A…it just… it doesn't feel like home." She met her ex-husband's eyes. "I think I should move back to Seattle."
"Addison, you don't have to do that," Derek insisted. "We don't exactly have a lot of good memories together here. We could go back to New York. Or we could move somewhere completely different. Or-"
"I want to move back to Seattle," Addison said. "I like Seattle Grace. I like what I did with their maternal fetal medicine department. And it'll be good for Karev to actually have a teacher again."
"So, wait, let me get this straight," Derek began in confusion. "You want to move back to Seattle so that Alex Karev can get his mentor back?"
"No," Addison chuckled, before growing serious. "I want to move back to Seattle because you and I never really had a fair chance here. And I want to set that right. All the other work stuff that I mentioned…that's just a nice bonus."
Derek smiled at his ex-wife lovingly. He knew that tonight – this cold, December, Seattle night – would be a turning point for him and Addison. Their past had been painful. And though he wished he go back and undo a lot the hurt that he and Addison had caused each other over the years, he was grateful that they had somehow reached a point where they could trust each other again. They had reached a place where he knew they'd never take each other for granted again.
"So you really want to move back to Seattle?" Derek asked Addison with a smile.
"I do," Addison nodded. "I just have one condition."
"And what's that?" Derek laughed, wrapping his arms around Addison. He technically didn't need to ask her. He knew what was coming; but he wanted to hear her say it anyway.
Addison gave Derek a smug smile before kissing him chastely on the lips. "We've gotta move out of the trailer."
I go back to December all the time.
Nearly two years had passed. Derek and Addison had wasted no time moving out of the trailer and into a beautiful modern mansion not too far from work. They had made equally quick work of becoming Addison-and-Derek again, getting engaged just a few months after the move, and getting remarried December of that year. They had actually wanted to get remarried sooner; but they agreed that, with their history, a December wedding felt right.
Their first anniversary and Christmas were approaching quickly, but on this evening, in early December, Addison and Derek's biggest concern was decorating the large Christmas tree in their living room (and, of course, the Columbia tree).
They had left work early so they could get home and start decorating. And they both thanked their lucky stars that they hadn't put Christmas decorating off like they had some years; because Derek had received a call from his mother, earlier in the day, announcing that she and his sisters and their families were flying into Seattle that weekend for a surprise early Christmas visit.
"So what you think?" Derek asked, stepping back from the Columbia tree that he had just decorated, and admiring his work. "How does it look?"
Addison laughed. "The same as it does every year," she answered, as her eyes swept over the Columbia tree. "Completely ridiculous."
"But perfect, right?" Derek grinned.
"But perfect," Addison agreed with a smile. "You did good, Der," she complimented. "Now, come help me decorate the main Christmas tree. I can't decide where to put this ornament."
"Addison," Derek laughed. "It's a big tree. It doesn't really matter where you put each individual ornament."
"No," Addison disagreed, gesturing to the ornament in her hand. "This ornament's special. I want you to decide where we should put it."
Derek sighed at Addison's persistence. "Okay," he finally agreed, as he made his way over to where his wife was standing. "Let me see the ornament, Addison."
Addison quickly handed over the flat, plaster ornament; and Derek gasped in surprise as he looked at the ornament in his hand. Along the boarder of the ornament, in flowing cursive, read the words, I'll be home for (next) Christmas. The words framed a picture – a grainy, black and white sonogram.
Derek met Addison's eyes, a mixture of disbelief and sheer happiness playing on his features. He and Addison had been trying for a baby for several months.
"Really?" Derek breathed, glancing from the ornament in his hand to his wife.
"Really," Addison confirmed with a smile. "You haven't missed anything important, though," she reassured him. "I haven't heard the heartbeat, and I haven't-"
But she was cut off by Derek, who was crashing his lips against hers, kissing her deeply.
"I love you," he breathed, when the finally broke apart.
"I love you too," she smiled.
"Hey, Addie," he began, as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I need you to do something for me."
"What's that?" Addison asked.
"I need you to never let me forget today."
"Derek."
"No, Addison, I'm serious. In a couple months, when I'm grumbling about having to get up at two in the morning to go on a Ben & Jerry's run because you're craving chocolate ice cream. Or a year from now, when you and I can barely keep our eyes open because our baby refuses to let us sleep for more than forty-five minutes at a time…I need to you remind me about today, and how ridiculously happy I am. I need to you to take me back to this night in December."
"Okay," Addison agreed, kissing her husband sweetly. "But only if you promise to do the same for me when I get overwhelmed."
"I will," Derek promised, smiling at his wife lovingly. "Although, I have a feeling we'll end up reminiscing about tonight all the time, regardless," he admitted. "At least I hope we do."
"Really?" Addison asked, smiling as she felt her husband wrap his arms around her. "All the time?"
"Yeah," Derek whispered, meeting Addison's eyes and smiling. "All the time."
All the time.
Happy Holidays! :)
