Let Me Fall
Disclaimer- I do NOT own Grey's Anatomy or any of the characters associated with this wonderful television show. Please do no sue me!! I borrowed my warning from Kaits1789 I do not own this warning well I own half of it, but the other half belongs to them :D, although it fits my story well. To an extent, please don't sue me Kaits !! I love your stories!! :D
WARNING: This fan fiction will deal with the act of sexual assault, abuse, and rape, it also has mild to moderate strong language, and also deals with the thought of miscarriages, and abortions. While no graphic scenes are to be portrayed, the story in and of itself will be one that could upset someone. Consider yourself warned and read at your own risk. Keep that in mind as you begin this work of fiction.
A/N: After countless miscarriages Addison and Derek struggle with the thought of another pregnancy. When complications arise, Derek, unable to handle another loss, leaves Addison to deal with the pain, and fear, on her own. How will she cope with the thought of another child when she was still racked with the guilt of loosing the others?
I sat on the floor of the female locker room, my heart pounding a million times a minute as I feel the all too familiar sense of nausea and the stomach churning sensation that I knew meant I was about to loose my breakfast, for the second time this morning. My body is weak and shaking as I cling to the porcelain toilet, and when the vomiting finally subsides for the second time that morning I sit on the floor, weak, exhausted as I try and stand up, and look for the first time, at the pregnancy test I had taken earlier that morning, before the constant vomiting had started, before I was reminded once again of the pain and misery that the last few years had become. Tears fall down my rosy red cheeks as I look at the pregnancy test before me. In my mind I can't help but believe that this is too unbelievable to be true. I couldn't be pregnant. No. There was no way this could be happening to me. Not again. I stand up a little straighter and walk over to the sink, after splashing cool water on my face, and drying it, I fix my hair, and walk out into the busy crowded hospital to find her husband, and face the day, with this new and painful secret.
"Derek! Derek!" I call as I run up behind my husband and wrap my arms around him in a gentle loving way my heart breaks as I feel his body tense up at my gentle touch and tears form in my eyes. I wasn't going to tell him about the pregnancy, not yet; it would only hurt him more. Things had been strained but we had been trying to make it work, had been trying so hard to get past the pain and the guilt and make this work, but still in the end, things were strained.
"What is it Addison?" I cringe at the way he says my name, with such hurt, and such heavy emotion. I long for the time when he uses to love me. When he use to smile at me, and give me kisses, when he use to call me 'Addie' in that carefree way of his that expressed all of his love and affection in just the simple name. He never calls me Addie anymore.
"We need to talk." I say in a gentle carefree way. I try to let the fact that I've been crying go unnoticed, try to hide the pain and hurt in my heart. Try to will the red puffiness in my eyes to vanish, along with the dark lines under my eyes. How many mornings had I spent in the female locker room vomiting before I actually mustered up the courage to take a pregnancy test? How many days had I been so exhausted by performing even the simplest tasks that I had to be told to take a break? How many nights had I cried myself to sleep alone, while he had been working the late shifts? How long will this cycle of blood and tears go on before he takes the time to notice me? What will I have to do to get him to notice me again? Does he already know? Is that why he's been so distant? Or is he just afraid to touch me? Is he just afraid of the pain that is caused every time he touches me and he gets me pregnant, only to loose the baby later on?
He looks at me, and for a moment I think he is going to blow me off, that's right just blow me off like he always does, ignore me, and he will ignore all the pain that comes along with me, ignore me and he can ignore the loss of his children, can pretend like it never happened and along with that shut out the one person who needs him the most, but then he surprises me, as he takes my hand in his own, with a gentleness I had forgotten and leads me into the on call room. He takes me in his arms, and sits me down on the bed. Looking into his eyes, I can see the pain reflected in the crystal blue, it hurts him just to look into my eyes. I can't stand to see that pain. As the memories of what caused such great pain comes flooding back to me. They were never forgotten, but as they come flooding back it is as if they are happening all over again. I can feel the pain; feel the hurt reflecting I can feel my body weakening in his embrace.
The first time had been the most shock, a perfectly healthy woman, who until then had the perfectly healthy pregnancy, the text book pregnancy, and then one day everything changes, one day everything changes and our baby's dead; we were so excited about the baby. So very excited. It was a little boy and we were going to name him Mark Christopher. When I found out, I just knew it was going to be a little boy. And one day after work, when I was almost six months along, I went home and painted the entire room baby blue. We had the furniture and the bottles; we had teddy bears and tiny little outfits. Derek was so excited. It was two weeks after my baby shower, when I was seven and a half months pregnant that I lost him.
It was my fault. It was my entire fault. I had fallen in the shower. I fell down, and after a few minutes I had gotten back up, I thought everything was fine. It wasn't until later, much later that night that the cramping had started. I lay in bed, and tried to ignore the pains, Derek was working late that night, and I lay in bed alone. It wasn't until the bleeding started that I grew frightened and went to the hospital, but by that point it was too late, my baby was already gone.
I close my eyes as he gently wipes the tears away from my cheeks. He holds me close in that gentle way that he use to, before the babies, before everything changed. I am afraid to look at him afraid to move, because if I move I may ruin the moment. I may ruin the chance to feel this way, the chance to feel loved by him.
He kisses me, and at first I draw back, frightened, and reluctant, he hasn't touched me in over three months. We don't even bother to fight anymore. Just stay silent in our own little worlds of pain. But when he says my name, gently I know I am going to have to find the courage to get through the day. I know I am going to have to find the courage to allow myself to be loved by him again. My heart yearns for his touch, and aches to feel his body close to mine. My body cries for attention.
"Addie." He says my name gently as the kisses start, as if seeking my permission, seeking my approval to be feeling the way he is feeling. To be doing the things he is doing to me. I nod my head, as I realize that I want him, that I need him, as much as he is wanting and needing me. The kisses increase from love to lust. From gentle freedoms to pure need for the other being.
The kissing becomes more involved, deeper more passionate, and although less gentle, not rough enough to hurt me. He's kissing me in just the right spots, and holding me in all the right ways.
My breath is hot and heavy on his, and the feeling of him kissing me, touching me, it seems like seconds before his hands are making their way down my body and untying my dark blue scrub bottoms. Within minutes the only thing keeping me from my desired goal was my black lacy Prada bra and panties. I gasp in a pleasurable way as his hands teasingly find their way to all my pleasure points and he takes me by the hips, pulling me down on the bed so he can remove my panties.
He probably didn't mean for the kiss to be anything more than that, but by the look in his eyes, I can tell he is genuinely surprised by how much he wants me. He wants for us to get something from the past. Perhaps get something from a time when he uses to be good to me. Even if it was just sex. It's something we can both hold on to. Something we can hold on and cherish until he goes back to hurting me again. His eyes search mine out, asking me for permission once again to go forward. We share a glance and I know that he is thinking back to the times when he didn't seek my permission. Times when I didn't want him to, but he did anyway. I can tell that this wasn't going to be one of those times.
I nod my head again, almost pleading for him to move forward, wanting him, needing him so much, that the very thought of patience was driving me insane. Damn pregnancy hormones.
"Yes." I say and I speak the word out loud, my breathing labored and rushed form the kissing as he kisses me harder and I wrap my arms around him, kissing him back with equal force, as he moves on top of me.
He starts giving me pepper kisses. Kissing and pressing, teasing. The kisses start on my cheek, and then move to my lips, pause there for a second or two before continuing their way down my body.
"Don't tease." I warn in a playful tone as I give him a gentle smile.
He smiles when I tell him not to tease me. I'm having fun with this, we both are. He remembers fun. It wasn't the sex he wanted back, it was the passion.
"You sure, cause I could do this forever." He says as he continues to tease me for just a little bit longer. "Ok have it your way." He lets his hands grab at me, touch me, feel me. It's been so long since we've done anything like this, anything with this kind of love.
"I love you so much." He whispers to me, as he leans in and whispers those gentle words in my ear. His voice is so gentle so quiet it is almost like a breath of air, but still I know he said it.
I almost laugh when he is so playful with me. It had been so long, such a very long time since we were able to just have fun, so long since we were together in a loving way, not the way that ended in tears. Because lately more often than not, was the bad times, not the good ones. My hands know what to do. I didn't even have to think as my hands run over his body, touching feeling groping; pressing down in the spots that I know will make him squirm with pleasure.
"I love you so very much…" My voice comes out as a whisper on my breath, softer than his, more involved and gentle as he gently cresses my thighs and I run my fingers through his wavy mcdreamy hair.
He kisses me when I say that I love him. This night is good, more than that, it's almost perfect. In this moment we don't have to be whom we've been for these last few years since the death of our children. In this night he can be the guy I fell in love with, and I….I can be the girl who use to make him do things. He moves against me and were one for now. Right now, were just one body with two souls. He loves me so much, and this is what he wants to have, if not only just for tonight.
We are kissing more and more passionately now, our breathing is hard and our breath hot. When he enters me our bodies move as one, pressing arching, and moving as a unit. I love him so much, He doesn't understand, nor do I think he will ever understand how much I love him. I moan softly as he hit's just the right spot in only a way that he can.
He knows how to make me feel good, it's one of the things he's always sort of just known how to do, that's why we both loved the on call room sex. As we move together his hands seem to have a mind of their own. It's ok though because he knows I love it. His hands know all of my spots.
It seems like the pleasures are going on forever as he pleases me over and over again, only after we are both fully sated and he had released himself inside of me, does he stop and rest. Still straddled on top of me, he leans down and gives me sweet kisses gentle kisses we are both breathless and exhausted, but fully pleased as he lays down on the bed beside me and wraps me lovingly in his arms. Something he hadn't done in months, almost a year. Since the last miscarriage. I look at him and smile as I cuddle closer into his embrace and realize that maybe things weren't going to be so bad after all. Maybe tomorrow I would tell him about the baby, maybe……….