Title: Fall Apart
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Pairing: Addison/Derek
Rating: NC-17, but only slightly
Word Count: 630 words
Summary: The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
-Yeats
Author's Notes: This is the second story I've written for my personal challenge, 13 prompts in 13 days. The prompt fulfilled is "death" from lj community greysprompts, and I just HAD TO do it. There are spoilers up through a recent preview for Thursday's episode. A line from the preview made me think of Yeats poem "The Second Coming." I purposely used some of the words or groupings of words from the poem in the story. Thanks to lj user olaf47 for her wonderful beta help.
Disclaimer: I don't own Addison or Derek or anything related to Grey's, unfortunately. I'm just a poor college student borrowing them to avoid doing school work. Don't sue.

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"An intern died today." The realization washes over her again. Addison grasps the countertop to stop the dizziness, momentarily pausing while washing her face. "Jesus Christ," she says to the mirror.

Five minutes later, she is brushing her teeth when she hears a knock on her hotel room door. Toothbrush dangling from her mouth, she opens the door, shocked to see Derek thoroughly soaked and looking thoroughly miserable staring back at her.

"Derek."

With that one word, he staggers across the threshold, falling into Addison's arms and causing her to stumble backwards, adjusting to his sudden weight. She grasps his hand and guides him to her bed. Retreating to her bathroom to finish brushing her teeth, she wonders what the hell she is going to say to him to make this better. Always the doctor, her first thought is to prevent hypothermia, so she grabs a towel and places it gently on Derek's lap. His gaze is glassy and blank, and he makes no movement to pick up the towel. Addison watches him for minutes, or hours maybe, the only sound in the room her shallow breathing and his chattering teeth.

"Derek," she whispers again after some time, but he doesn't acknowledge her presence at all.

She's never seen Derek like this, and it terrifies her. She picks up the towel and moves behind him on the bed, drying his dripping hair. But then he's turning and grabbing her shoulders almost violently, and then she's underneath him and he's kissing her with a passionate intensity she'd never felt from him during their marriage.

Her brain screams, "This is so wrong," but her body disagrees, responding to the familiarity of Derek's lips and stubble brushing her cheeks.

"You do not get to break down. You do not get to fall apart."

She remembers her words to him earlier in the hospital's corridor, and then Derek's icy-cold fingers are tugging off her night shirt. His own clothes follow and she wavers between being a passive or active participant in this whole charade. Decision made, she pulls Derek's head down and kisses him, over and over. She doesn't know if the wet drops falling on her cheeks are rain drops or his tears, and she realizes she doesn't really care. Derek is moving on top of her and she's trying to shut out her mind, but she's replayed the days overwhelming events a dozen times so far, and even Derek's warm mouth on her breast cannot stop her from hearing the words in her head.

"Time of Death: 19:23."

How wrong is it that she is thinking about Meredith's death while Meredith's boyfriend bites down harder on her nipple than she normally likes? She doesn't get any time to consider how mentally unstable she is, because Derek enters her in one quick thrust, and her macabre musings are replaced with mindless thoughts of, "Oh God, to the left, harder, and right. There."

He's fucking her, truly fucking her, and she's grasping tightly to the sheets, waiting for her release.

She comes, hard, fireworks exploding behind her clenched eyelids and warmth spreading through her center. Derek continues to rock against her, hard and sweaty between her slowing thighs. She rides out her orgasm, the contractions and relaxations of her muscles matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He stills inside her, throwing his head back and letting out an animalistic cry as he orgasms.

Derek slides out of her and rolls on his side. Then he pulls her to him, and throws the covers over their sweaty bodies. She listens to his breathing slow, waiting for the revelation, some explanation, of why he came to her. She needs to hear it.

But when she finally turns around in his arms, he is already fast asleep.