Results of a long rainy weekend. Set post Jen Harmon's death in An Honest Mistake, when Derek goes into drunk caveman mode and smacks Meredith's ring into the night.
In my reimagining, Richard calls Addison, and the past catches up to them.
The title is from the song of the same name that plays while Derekand Addison talk to Jen's husband, by Little Dragon. If you have it, play it while you read. Or go listen to it later.
Read on!
..
Twice I turn my back on you
I fell flat on my face but didn't lose
Tell me where would I go
Tell me what led you on I'd love to know.
..
The call came at midnight, which is so cliché she might have laughed if her heart hadn't been in her throat, choking her words and stealing her breath.
They're circling now, lower, lower, closer to the place she left herself behind. She promised herself she wouldn't come back; she's worked hard for this life. To lose it over something as inconsequential as a man who doesn't love her is...well, it isn't what she planned.
Don't look back she whispered to herself the last time she walked through this airport. Not because she wouldn't be able to walk away - because she was sure he wouldn't be watching her, and she wasn't sure she could take this last, final rejection.
Don't look back.
She hasn't. LA is beautiful, wonderful, healing. She's made friends, a life, she's reaffirmed her faith in her skills. She's happy.
But happy is subjective. There's the kind of happy that lets you fall asleep at night alone without half a bottle of whatever's nearest, and there's the kind of happy that leaves you feather-light, shiny bright. The kind of happy that Derek used to make her.
The kind of happy she used to make him.
Used to.
The last time she saw him before she left...in her office. Yes, that's it. She was packing, the drawers gaping empty and open, the walls stripped bare, boxes sealed at her feet. All tat was left on her desk was the embossed nameplate she'd had for years. Eleven years, to be precise.
She wasn't taking it with her - not much use for the damn thing, seeing as it had Addison Shepherd on it in shining gold. It sat there and stared at her, a memento of the forever she thought she'd found.
He poked his head around the door, hair missed, scrubs rumpled, cap in hand. His eyes were wide, disbelieving.
"You're really leaving." he observed.
"I start at the practice tomorrow," she replied, dusting off her hands, straightening her skirt, tugging at her coat. It was ridiculous how uncomfortable she felt with his eyes piercing her. "Nae wants me there early."
She still has no idea what she was hoping for.
Don't go, Addison.
I love you, Addie.
I'm sorry.
She's not sure what she would have done if he'd actually said any one of those things, so maybe it's better that he smiled and said safe trip.
She left that nameplate in the wicker wastebasket, faceup. Forever doesn't apply when your whole life is over.
She put him in a box, taped him in, flung it into the darkest recesses of her mind, and became a different person. A person who knows how to sleep alone, who doesn't believe in forever and in happy endings and in perfect families.
When she saw him last week, when he saved Archer's life, he slipped out of that box for a moment, and she clung to him. The old Derek. Her Derek.
And then the surgery and the OR, put it down, Addison and instantly she was back where their ending began.
And again, she turned her back on him.
So when that phone call came, she almost didn't pick it up. Almost.
He needs you Richard said. It felt so good, being needed, if not wanted. She takes what she can get. She can build walls a hundred feet high, move thousands of miles away, bury her memories a million feet deep but she will always, always come for him.
Even if he doesn't want her. Which, she worries as she ducks into the cab, her single lonely suitcase rattling in the trunk, may well be the case.
The roads are familiar, rain-slick, lights slithering across them. She closes her eyes, head leaning against the chill window. She'll just sent if he's all right. And then she'll leave, back to her sunny world.
Of course he's all right. She's the one who was never all right, after. He was the one who believed in the glass half full. She was the one who thought, incessantly, of how many ways there were to spill that glass.
"Right here." she tells the driver, fumbling with bills in the dark as he hauls her bag to the ground.
"Here?" he questions, looking her up and down. Admittedly, her heels aren't exactly suited to the soft ground.
"Here." she confirms, and she stands rooted to the spot as he drives away, his headlights fading until she's in pitch blackness broken only by a short string of lights.
She put those there. Thought they'd give the grim little trailer a bit of joy. He must have forgotten that, or he'd have torn them down long ago.
They wink cheerfully at her, lighting up the front of the trailer, a slouched form beneath them.
"I swear I haven't had that much to drink," he says, raising an eyebrow with surprising coordination, considering how drunk he clearly is. "But I think I'm hallucinating."
"You wish you were." she replies, falling I to a chair beside him. Her heels are irreparably ruined now. One more thing this man owes her. "But you're not. And you are drunk."
"Yup." he agrees. "I'm drunk."
"You stink."
"You stink." he says idly. "Go away."
"I flew a thousand miles to see you, that's all you can say?"
He widens his eyes at her, flapping his arms. "You saw me. Now go."
She winces at the bloodshot whites of his eyes. "And let you die of liver failure?"
"Who called you anyway?" he glares balefully.
"Richard." she mutters at the same time he says it. They look at each other for a startled moment, slipping into a rhythm so old they could dance it in their sleep.
"I don't need you to fix me." he declares, popping open another beer. "Want one?"
"No."
"Suit yourself." he shrugs, settling back.
"No, you idiot, I mean no I'm not leaving." she says impatiently, grabbing his arm. "Up."
"Leggo," he jerks away. "It's all your fault anyway."
"What?" she spits.
"You didn't let me save her." he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You wanted to save the baby, and you didn't let me save her."
"She was dead already and you know it." she says furiously, standing up. They're not married anymore, she doesn't have to take his bull. Richard can just fix his precious surgeon himself. Or maybe Grey can.
"You saved the baby," he says, seemingly unaware of her anger. "You saved their daughter. You save babies, Addie, don't you, just not..."
"I swear, Derek, finish that sentence and I will kill you." she whispers, the air suddenly too thick to breathe, beer and sweat and rain heavy in her nostrils. It's back, that suffocating pressure, she fights it, but it pushes back, enveloping her in its grip.
Not here she pleads, even though he's the only one who knows. Not now.
"Go ahead." he smiles pleasantly, swigging his beer, watching her struggle.
"Bastard." she manages as she straightens up, taking deeper breaths, regaining control.
"Bitch." he says casually. "Leave me alone, come on."
"I'm here for Richard," she says, as much to herself as to him. "I'm not leaving."
"I proposed to Meredith." he says, watching her carefully. "Well. I was going to, anyway."
Is that all you got she laughs silently. Looking at him now, a sad sorry sodden mess, she feels bad for Meredith rather than for herself.
She can have him.
"What happened?" she jeers; they used to bring out the best in each other, and then it turned into the worst. "She realised you're just an egotistical jackass?"
"Something like that, yeah." he says morosely. "Also I hit a home run with the ring, so...yeah."
Her eyes fall on the baseball bat leaning against the door. She knows that bat. She's watched countless games being played with it at picnics, reunions, birthday parties, too big for the littler Shepherds.
"Nice." she snorts. "Your standards have clearly fallen."
"No." he says, still watching her. Baiting her. "It was my mother's ring. For the right girl. I'd say my standards have risen."
And that, she thinks as he slumps back in his chair, snoring, is why she needs to turn her back again.
Okay, so did you like it? Hate it? Have questions?
Leave me a review to let me know!
I know it's pretty brutal right now, but it'll be explained. I'm toying with the idea of actual flashbacks versus the backstory being told as a memory, so let me know what you'd like.