Never Moved On

Summary: Derek and Meredith are happily married; Mark and Addison have a three-year-old son. Life is good all-around. Or so it seems. One-shot.

A/N: Largely inspired by the song Lips of an Angel by Hinder. I'm still writing my chaptered Addison-centric fic, this is just something that wouldn't leave me alone.

Derek was perfectly happy with Meredith. They had met at The Emerald City Bar almost five years previously and things were more than wonderful. They had encountered a lot of problems, but everyone they had faced together and pulled through. That's not to mention how difficult it was, his being an attending and her a resident. He was proud of her. She had two years of residency left, and had already made something of a name for herself. Not as the wife of a famous neurosurgeon or the daughter of the infamous Ellis Grey, but as Dr. Meredith Grey. She had come a long way.

And so had he, Derek. It had been four years since he divorced Addison, one since he married Meredith. On the surface, life was good. In fact, it was good for everyone. His ex-wife and Mark had moved back to New York, taking with them a son now aged three. He kept in touch with Addison, dropping by to see her when he and Meredith visited his parents on the east coast. It wasn't awkward or strained. It was good.

But it was two in the morning. Even if they were friends and on the best of terms with one another, it wasn't normal for her to call him this late.

He blinked blearily at the display on his cell phone before flipping it open. "Addie?" He sat up and glanced at the other side of the bed, but Meredith wasn't there. Oh, right. She had a forty-eight.

"Der … Derek?"

His back stiffened. He knew that voice. He knew it well, unfortunately. "What's wrong?"

"He, um. He…" Her voice trailed off into a sob.

"Addison," he said, stern but gentle at the same time. "What did he do?" He might have been able to forgive Addison, but Mark had never quite regained his trust. He knew, in the end, that he would hurt Addison, but it would be none of his business when he did.

"Derek…" she said lamely, and then there was silence that actually hurt him.

"You need me to come out there?" he said in a quiet voice after some time. He couldn't stand the sound of her trying to suppress her crying.

"No," she answered hurriedly. "Don't, Derek." She sniffled. "You have no obligation to me, I should have called Sav or…"

"No, Addie," he assured her softly, "you did the right thing. I told you I'd always be here for you, so here I am." He paused. "So what did he do?"

His stomach knotted when she let escape a broken, shaky sigh. It was in instances like these that he truly hated his former friend. "He slept with her."

"Who?"

"That stupid scrub nurse of his! I would have expected this out of him five years ago. Hell, it happened five years ago!" She exhaled heavily. "I guess I just … he's Mark. I should have never expected more from him. But we … we've got Luke now. He was a good … a good guy for all these years. I don't know what I did…"

Derek was silent for a moment. He was upset, at the least, by her news. "Where is he? And Luke?"

She drew a breath, steadier this time. "I don't know where he's at. I don't care. And Luke's at Mom's thank God. He doesn't need to hear us."

Derek nodded, though she couldn't see it. He'd met the boy a few times, and he was sweet. Sweeter, anyway, than any of Derek's own nieces or nephews. He smiled in spite of himself; Mark and Addison had taught the boy to call him "Uncle Derek." It was nice, irony considered. Derek knew he didn't deserve any such title.

"I'm sorry I called you so late," she said suddenly, shaking him from his thoughts. "Were you asleep? Did I wake you guys up?"

He smiled softly at the urgency in her voice. "It's fine, Addie. She's at the hospital. And … you're my friend. This is what friends do. Besides, it's only eleven in New York."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Okay. Okay, Derek."

That's when he realized. He really should have known to begin with. "Are you drinking?"

"Yep. Hence Luke being at Mom's. You know, I don't think she likes Luke much."

She was definitely at the least a little tipsy. "That's ridiculous. Your mother begged for grandkids."

She scoffed into the phone. "Your grandkids. She hates Mark, and she hates the fact that Luke was born out of wedlock."

He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," he all but whispered. He wasn't sure where that had come from.

"What are you talking about?"

"Leaving you. Choosing her." There it was. It was out in the open, and she knew. He knew.

"Derek, we're happy," she deadpanned. Never mind the fact that Mark was nowhere to be found and had slept with a nurse.

"We are. We're happy. And all this with Mark? It'll blow over. Then we can go back to happy." It was true; he had never loved anyone more than he loved Meredith and she made for a brilliant wife.

"No." Her tone was forceful, determined. "I'm not going back to him again. He had his shot and he blew it. All over that freakin' nurse." She paused and thought he heard her take a gulp—probably of alcohol. "And you, Derek Shepherd, are happy. She's a good person. Good, good, good."

"I know. And I'm happy with her. It's just, sometimes … I wonder if I should have stayed with you."

"We all have regrets. I wish we would have stayed together, too. Mark's great when he's not screwing his nurses. But you, Derek? You were the one. And he knows that. But I love him. I really, really love him, and I wish I could make him be the one but he's not."

"I know it, Addie. God, I know." Sometimes he thought Addison was the one for him. He knew he wasn't in love with her anymore, but when he was with Meredith, something was missing. He loved her, more than she knew, but she wasn't Addison. "He doesn't deserve you—you or Luke."

She snorted. "And who does—you?"

"Well … yeah."

"Too bad!" she said in a pitiful singsong voice. "You're married!"

A frown crossed his face, deeply wrinkling his features. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what the hell did you mean?"

"I miss you," he blurted before he could stop himself.

"Whoa no, Derek. My life is complicated enough without my ex-husband wanting to get back together because of his stupid guilty conscience."

"You keep putting words in my mouth." His tone wasn't accusing or negative at all. He spoke simply, gently. "I don't want to leave Meredith; I love her." He hesitated before continuing on: "She's my wife. I just … I miss you."

"Stop it. I don't want you to miss me because I'm in a good place right now. I—I have Luke, and … well, I came to my senses about Mark, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean … I just … it's different. She's so unlike you, it's … strange. I'm not used to it all yet. And that came out wrong earlier. I miss you, yeah, but you don't need to hear that and I don't need to think about it. Because, like you said, I'm happy. And I just want to … I want to love her without holding back, without having to compare her to you. I shouldn't. I don't love you anymore, and you don't love me. Why the hell can't we just move on?" Another truth for all to know. Fantastic. He was on a roll.

It was then that she began crying … again. Just perfect. "Addie … I apologize. I shouldn't have went off on a tirade. You called me looking for a friend, and so far I've done nothing to help." He took a deep breath. "What do you need me to do?"

"I just needed someone to talk to—someone who understands Mark as well as I do. I got that. And it's all I need from you, Derek."

"Fine. But Addie?" He sighed. "I hope it works for you. I really do. You deserve better than what the two of us have given you. And if you ever need anything—anything at all, Meredith and I are here."

He heard a strange muffled sound on the other end that he recognized as an attempt to stifle a sob. "Thank you." She was silent for a long while. "Derek?" Her voice was small, barely recognizable.

"Yeah?"

"I miss you too. And … thank you."

Click.

Derek sat, a little stunned. He hadn't solved her problem; hadn't even helped. He had only succeeded in making her life more complicated than it already was. He shouldn't have said anything. The timing was inappropriate, and he was way out of line with half the things he had told her.

He glanced at his watch—it was almost three in the morning. He had a six o'clock surgery, which meant he would have to be up in an hour and a half. And Meredith would be coming in at four to snuggle up to her faithful and loving husband. He felt a twinge of guilt before deciding he should be asleep when she opened the door. And with that final thought he slid back down into the covers and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

A/N: Reviews are nice. :-)