Title: Catalyst
Author: greymcdreamysgh
Rating: PG-13, just for some language
Summary: Just a one-shot (about 2,500 words) about how I wish Addison's trip to L.A. would be resolved, inspired by Anna Nalick's song "Catalyst." After a disaster of a trip, Addison returns to Seattle and goes straight to the bar. To quote Cristina, she knew the science and it was drinking time.
Disclaimer: I don't own the song, the characters, or the show in any way.
And you'd be inclined to be mine for the taking
And part of this terrible mess that I'm making
But you, you're the catalyst
And you'll be the vein
You'll be the pain
You'll be the scar
You'll be the road rolling below the wheels of a car
And all of your thoughts are God,
Don't know if I'm strong enough now
These L.A. lights, no, no, they don't shine quite as bright as back in Frisco
Do you wanna, though?
Still wanna go?
Addison Forbes Montgomery did not particularly enjoy failing at anything. Every single patient she lost led to a sleepless night running through every slice of the scalpel, every suture, trying to pinpoint where she went wrong. She didn't like to lose at anything, not even at a board game. So when she failed at marriage, fidelity, potential parenthood, and even one-night stands all in the same year, she packed up her fabulous little red sports car (a guilty pleasure purchase if there ever was one) and headed for the hills, the Hollywood Hills to be more specific.
After three days in L.A., Addison could add one more thing to her list of failures: fertility. Time had failed her, or she had failed time. It was one or the other, and somewhere around mile 703 on the drive back to Seattle, Addison realized that she was the one that failed yet again. Time had been on her side for years, practically begging her to perpetuate Derek's perfect hair into another generation, but she owed the four years she busted her ass for that M.D. something too. So she put it off. And now she couldn't help but wonder when exactly her uterus quit on her. When exactly was her last chance? Everything had dried up right along with her marriage and her bet and everything else.
She had no ground to stand on with Naomi when she asked her why she worked in a place that essentially functioned as a shrine to her ex; she knew that as soon as the words left her mouth. Thankfully, Naomi didn't know it, so there could be no accusing questions when Addison told her she was going back home. She didn't know why she was even bothering to go back in the first place. Seattle Grace was as much a hospital as a gossip mill, and Derek and Grey were two favorite topics of conversation.
She knew she looked hot in that car, but after hours and hours driving the same stretch of road in it, all she wanted was out. When she reached familiar territory again, she found herself heading to the bar. Realizing you're going to, more likely than not, die alone deserved a drink or two, she thought as she parked and headed inside.
She took a seat at the bar and watched Joe serve another customer before making his way over to her. He had the unique vantage point of seeing some of the best doctors in the country make drunken fools of themselves probably more often than they should, and he undoubtedly heard the juiciest Seattle Grace secrets before everybody else did. She wondered what it was like to be Joe. It seemed like she was always the last to know everything.
"Addison," Joe said cheerfully. "What can I get for you? The usual?" She nodded and in no time, Joe set an extra-dry martini down in front of her. "Haven't seen you in a couple of days," he offered, pausing in front of her as if he had all the time in the world.
"Yeah, I've been…away," she replied, taking a sip of her drink.
"So I've heard. L.A.?" he asked. "Sloan told me," he supplied when Addison looked at him questioningly.
"He's been in here a lot?"
"Every night since you left," Joe said. "Not what he's usually in her for, I have to say. He talked a lot. To me," he quickly added. "Not to, you know, who he usually talks to when he's in here."
"Who does he usually talk to in here?" Addison asked, taking a long drink. Joe raised his eyebrows. "Oh…yeah," she mumbled.
"Good to have you back, Addison," Joe smiled before going to tend to other customers.
She sat there for a long while, stirring her drink, wondering where everybody else was. Those interns, especially, liked to hang out here after their shifts, but maybe with that test coming up they were studying instead of drinking since that would be the responsible thing to do. Responsibility was probably another thing she could add to her list of failures, she thought, smirking as she stared down into her drink. A responsible person probably wouldn't fuck the cocky intern in the on-call room in the middle of their shift.
The door opened, and she turned around briefly only to see Mark walk in. The leather jacket and the stubble on his face got her every time, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she reminded herself what an ass he was. She sighed and cupped her head in her hands, resting her elbows on the bar.
Though there were plenty of empty seats, he took the one right next to her, yet didn't say a word. He ordered a drink and continued to ignore her as they both stared straight ahead and tried hard to get drunk.
"Aren't you going to ask me where I've been?" Addison finally asked.
"I know where you were," he replied curtly, and went back to his drink.
Addison motioned to Joe for another martini, and closed her eyes for a second as the warmth of the alcohol filled her system. She glanced quickly over at Mark, but he continued to look directly in front of him at absolutely nothing. After five minutes of unbearable silence, she sighed. "I went to L.A.," she said finally.
He turned to look at her. "I know."
"Naomi and Sam are there. There's a beach there. Different than here," she said slowly.
"Yeah," he replied, downing the last of what was in his glass.
"Ok," she said. "So I'm back."
"Ok," he said again.
"Mark, what are…I'm back," she repeated.
"Doesn't answer the question I have," Mark said gruffly.
"What, Mark?" she asked, looking him right in the eye.
"Why the hell you left in the first place," he said accusingly. "And don't tell me that it was different."
"It was different, Mark."
"Addie, don't give me that bullshit," he muttered, with a mix of hurt and fury in his eyes. "You don't care about the beach, and you haven't talked to Naomi in a year. You fucked Karev, and then you ran." She stared at him blankly, shock written all over her face. "Yeah, I know about that," Mark said.
Addison threw a few bills down on the bar and in a flustered mess, gathered her things, left, and didn't look back, in a continuation of her new M.O. She was just drunk enough to the point where she probably shouldn't have been driving, but her hotel wasn't far and after Mark's revelation, it was time to call it a night.
She hustled up to her room, the place she had called home for the past few months. It was pathetic really, the way she refused to put down roots here, like she had always been waiting for a way out. She dropped her bag at the door, kicked off her heels, and sat down on the bed. He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath.
Why she felt so guilty, she didn't know. He wasn't her boyfriend, and he had barely ever been. It wasn't like she cheated on him with the help, and even if she did, who the hell was he to talk?
Except that she had cheated, at least in a way. She had bailed on their bet, something that had apparently meant something to him, something that she started in the first place. She could call him a manwhore all day long, but when it came down to it, she liked to get hers too. She swallowed back some acidy shame, sighed, and got up to run the water for a shower.
Before she could get undressed, someone knocked on her door. Opening it, she found Mark standing before her. With his hands at his sides, he looked at her with a strange quiet. The usual overconfidence in his eyes, one of the deciding factors people pointed to when they called him a prick, was replaced by a cool assertiveness. "You don't get to walk away from me, Addison. You owe me that much."
She opened her mouth to say something back, but then stopped, and simply stepped aside and let him in. She closed the door behind him and he stood in front of her, just waiting for him to say something. "I slept with Karev," she finally said, after he said nothing.
"You slept with Karev."
"I shouldn't have. We had an…agreement," she said, "And I broke it."
"Addison. You still haven't told me why."
"Mark," she murmured as she moved out of the doorway and back into the room. "I wanted someone who would barbecue on a Saturday afternoon and teach kids how to play catch. That's what I want, Mark," she said. "I thought Karev was that kind of guy."
"And he's not."
"He's not," she agreed. "So I figured if I couldn't get the guy, I didn't want to wait anymore for the kids. I was going to figure out the playing catch part later," she said with a slight laugh. "So I went to L.A."
"Not just because it's different."
"It is different. But that's what I want. I want my life to change. I need my life to change. I went to L.A. because I wanted a baby."
"Oh," Mark replied, visibly surprised.
"But that didn't work out either, because it turns out I have like no eggs left. All those years I spent married, all that time I could have had kids and I didn't, I thought I'd have other chances. But I don't, Mark. I ran out of time. So I came back here," she said, sitting down on the bed. When he moved to sit down next to her, she didn't stop him. "So I guess it happened sometime in the last year," she shrugged. "I didn't even know. I always banked on having more time," she said again.
"Addie," Mark sighed, putting his arm around her. He expected her to stop him, to shrug off his embrace, but she didn't. Instead, she just sunk into his comfort.
"I just didn't think that time was the only time I was ever going to be pregnant," Addison said, her voice breaking. "My one chance and I ruined it. And you wanted that baby, Mark," she murmured tearfully, remembering the onesie and the smile he gave her after he circled a date on the calendar with a sharpie.
"Ad,' he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "You were…I wasn't what you wanted."
"I took it away from you," she continued guiltily. "I thought I'd have more chances."
"I thought we'd have more chances," Mark said. "I wanted you, but I never really wanted kids. Or at least that's what I thought, until you told me you were pregnant. Then it felt right. It felt like going out and buying that Yankees onesie was what I was supposed to be doing. It hurt, Addison. It hurt and I won't lie to you now, even though I know you're hurting, but eventually I thought that one day it'd be ok. Derek was my best friend, but I knew he didn't love you like I loved you, and I just figured I'd wait for you to realize that. And I told myself that once you did, there'd be other babies."
"I'm sorry, Mark," she whispered as tears crept out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Strength, another thing to add to the failures list, she thought as she choked on a bitter sob.
"Me too," he said, cupping her head with his hand and running his fingers over her red hair.
"The OB/GYN at Naomi's practice left and she offered the job to me," Addison revealed suddenly.
"Are you going to take it?" Mark asked.
She studied his face for a moment, looking into his eyes. "I don't know."
He brushed a tear off her cheek with the pad of his thumb and then rested his hand on her knee, a gesture that was somehow much more intimate than the sex that defined them. "Addison," he said softly, almost desperately. Mark Sloan didn't do desperate. He never had to. What Mark Sloan wanted, Mark Sloan usually got, whether it was women, notoriety, a cushy corner office, or the right amount of mayo on his pastrami sandwiches. But yet here he was, looking like he might break if she told him she was leaving. Mark Sloan didn't break either. In fact, he was rarely anything other than self-assured, to the point of being an egotistical asshole, even with her. This was something quite new entirely.
"You didn't break the pact," Addison realized.
"I can be the barbecue guy," he said. "I don't know how to grill really, but I could figure it out. I could be that guy for you, Addie."
"Mark," she began.
"And the catch thing, I don't know if you forgot or what, but I played baseball in college. I know I could handle that. Plus, you know, surgical skills. My hand-eye coordination is relatively amazing."
"I just…," she hesitated.
"Stay," he pleaded, cutting her off with a kiss. His tongue parted her lips and the heat of it breathed reassurance into her. If she knew Mark, and she was pretty sure that she did, it would be any minute now before he tried to unhook her bra and lay her down on the bed. But he didn't do either of these things. Instead, he was the one who broke the kiss first, and looked at her with the most honesty that he ever had, and insisted, "Stay with me."
"I didn't make it sixty days," she said. "I started it, and I was the one that didn't finish it. Why would you want me to stay?"
"Second chances, Ad. We could do what I came out here for in the first place."
"What's that?"
"Pick up where we left off."
A/N: I'm still pretty new to the GA fic arena, and this is the first thing I've ever written that isn't Meredith and Derek, so constructive criticism is definitely welcome and appreciated. I hope you guys like (and I have to say, I blame this site for turning me into a Maddison shipper.).