An End… and a Beginning

Stepping out of the car and taking a deep breath, Derek Shepherd moved automatically towards the door of his NYC house, fishing out his keys to let himself in. Every day, same old routine. Wake up, shower, breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, shower, sleep. Talk about boredom. Oh sure, there were lots of interesting surgical cases at the hospital, but once he was off duty, there wasn't much any more. He'd rather stay at the hospital the whole day.

He paused and thought for a moment about the letter in his pocket before inserting his key into the keyhole. The letter from his old professor, Richard Webber, practically begged his attention ever since it arrived a few days ago. He still hadn't replied it though, almost as if he was waiting for some answer to an unasked question. Richard's offer may be the way to win back some colour into his life, with a new place, a new life, a new home, and a new reputation. But he would have to give up his entire NYC life if he chose to move to Seattle. Could he, when he was so deeply rooted here?

Shrugging off the thought for the moment, he opened the door and walked into his house. As he entered the living room, a funny prickling started running down his back. His sixth sense was in high alarm. Something was… wrong. His eyes swept the front hall, trying to place his finger at the cause of this disquiet he felt. Everything was in order, yet… the feeling won't go away. There was no one in this house except Addison, his wife of eleven years. No maids, no children, not even a pet, but just the two of them. Or was there…

Comprehending suddenly, Derek set his jaw, and started taking the stairs that led to the second floor of the house, where his bedroom was. There was another man in there now. Somehow he just knew. Praying that he would be proven wrong, he reached the end of the flight of stairs and stared at the door of his room. If looks could kill, the door would be bursting into flames already with the intensity of Derek's stare. Purposefully he strode towards it, so forcefully that he nearly slipped in the hallway. Frowning he looked down and scowled at the cause of his almost-fall. As quickly, the scowl changed into an absolutely blank expression as he recognised the owner of the man's jacket. He had seen it often enough in the staff locker room, when he and his colleagues were preparing to go home after a day's work.

Knowing the worst, he opened the door as calmly as he could, and he saw them both right before his eyes. His wife, cheating on him with, not just any other man, but with their colleague and best friend, Mark Sloan. Clothes, Mark's and Addison's, were littered across the floor, and the partners-in-crime were joined together, moving and panting and… Christ, they were probably close to climax now. And then, whether they both felt the burn of Derek's stare or because Addison saw her husband framed in the doorway, they broke apart and struggled to cover themselves and restore some semblance of calm, wearing identical sheepish and guilty expressions. Then, still silently, Derek ignored them, and left the room.

"Derek…" Addison's voice did nothing to stop his tracks as he turned his back on his cheating wife and ex-best friend. He locked himself in his nearby study room, leaned against the door, and tried to take stock of this recent, out-of-the-blue, shocking event. Addison… and Mark. He collapsed into his chair as he recalled the image that would, possibly, be forever etched in his memory. Almost absentmindedly, he removed Richard's letter and perused it once again. Here was the ticket to freedom. Here was the chance to build a new life, far away from New York. His marriage was over. His wife cheated on him. And Richard's offering him two million a year as head of neurosurgery, including the possibility to be chief of surgery at Seattle Grace Hospital one day. And he'd never have to see Mark and Addison on a daily basis again.

Reaching for a blank piece of paper, he started his reply to Richard, and then stopped. Why not reply in person instead? He didn't want to stay here another moment. Addison could have the house all to herself, and she and Mark could… continue with their sordid little affair for all he cared. In fact, he was just now noticing how little he really cared that his wife, his wife for God's sake, was cheating on him. Sure, his pride was bruised, and his trust of both his wife and best friend was shattered, but there had been little anger (compared to the blind rage he should be feeling), no sadness, no… heartbreak. In the earlier days of their marriage, he had thought Addison was the love of his life. Funnily enough, there weren't any jealousy outbreaks, no tearing the limbs of ex-best friend-turned-betrayer. It was just like… like some obscene scene from a soap on TV. And he didn't even care all that much, except for the obvious sense of betrayal.

Pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, he dictated his resignation letter to his current hospital, while he made plans. Tomorrow, when Addison went to work, he would pack his things, then hand in his resignation letter to the chief. And then, he would find the fastest way to Seattle. It was time to start anew. New place, new job, new life.

Who knows? Maybe he might settle in, and even like it there.

And when he exited his house, he didn't look back to reminisce about the eleven years he spent there. He just let his car carry him away… and away… and away…

Away… to his new destiny.

– Finis –