Where We Love is Home
Two
'Let the Dirges Play'
It was raining. Again. Being in Seattle almost made Addison forget what the sun looked like. Staying here would surely make her rust. New York was where she had to be—a place where rain was only one of many types of weather. Standing outside of the trailer though, something compelled her to forget the rain. Something deep within made her want to call the claustrophobic contraption hers. She wouldn't allow herself to do that though. Addison Shepherd was soon to be Addison Montgomery again; she was already beginning to pull her wedding band off of her finger. The grass was wet and squishy under her feet, and she knew the wilderness was no place for her. She and Derek had nothing connecting them together anymore, other than law. Why stay?
Mark understood her; he got where her head was, and didn't try to change her mind about it. He rarely rolled his eyes at her, or got tired of seeing her face. So why was she left paralyzed outside a tiny trailer in the pouring rain? Derek Shepherd. Goddamn Derek kept her from moving on. Addison was trying to go forward while stuck in reverse. He plagued her with memories of the past and delusional hopes for the future. Thirteen years of being in love with him kept her in her place on the soggy ground. The same lovely shoes Mark had bought for her last Christmas were now drenched, covered with mud and pieces of grass—both Mark and Derek had left their marks on her. She was drawn to both of them, and now when it came to her decision, the answer wasn't easily being made—it couldn't be. When she had stood in the elevator, just she and Mark, the choice seemed obviously clear. But now, with sweet Derek so close to her, right inside that godforsaken trailer, all the indecisiveness came flooding back. Mark, Derek; Derek, Mark. It was tearing Addison to shreds, and she didn't know how to make the echoes in her head stop. For a woman in love with two, there was utterly no rest.
Breathing in the misty air, she tried to find her strength. Find some way to walk up to that door and ask Derek to sign the divorce papers. She wanted to be free of Seattle and in some ways of Derek himself, but a small section in the back of her mind complicated that otherwise clear plan. Mark was going to be her future, right? That's where her future had to be; where she wanted it to be. So why couldn't she get the image of her and Derek together five years from now out of her head? Addison knew what to expect with Derek; knew he could commit. Granted, sometimes that commitment came with vacant stares and lonely nights—but he was always there—some way or another.
Recalling the nights she had spent alone in their house, completely in the dark save for the Yankee Candle she lit in the living room, made her feel all of the agony again. It forced her to remember why she had gone running to Mark—why she had craved him in the first place. She knew how difficult it was to be a surgeon; so did Mark. Yet he, unlike Derek, found a way to make time for her—for poor little Addison, lost and alone in a loveless marriage. She was bitter now, full of hate and abandonment. That anger fueled her body, forcing her feet up to the trailer door. She knocked on it harshly.
She didn't know why she was knocking. It was technically her house too. But she couldn't think that way. Addison had to keep her distance if she wanted to be a Montgomery instead of a Shepherd.
The door opened carefully, and Derek looked at her utterly confused. His tender face made her icy heart begin to melt. Stop it. "Addison," he said hesitantly, "what are you knocking for?" Derek looked his wife up and down, the crease in between his eyebrows growing deeper. "And why are you soaking wet?"
Addison licked her lips. She couldn't remember the last time he'd paid that much attention to her. Something had to be wrong in paradise with Meredith for him to even truly look at her. Let alone care. She brushed her hand over her hair, feeling how the strands stuck together tightly because of the water. Her color was probably close to brown now. Her heart began to beat faster. One of the first things Derek had ever said to her was how much he loved her hair color—and now even that was gone. Addison had no way to compete for his love; and she certainly had no way of winning it. She knew this is what she had to do.
"I need you to sign the divorce papers," she said rather quietly. She could hardly look at him, and there was no firmness in her stare. Keeping the image of Mark in her head, she felt her confidence building. His smile, his eyes, his endearing lips… they kept Addison from falling back into Derek's trap.
Derek leaned his weight on the door, confusion and shock clouding his deep blue eyes. His lips tried several different forms, attempting to find the one to fit the occasion. But this was no occasion he could ever prepare for. Addison could see the hurt on his face, and it genuinely surprised her. She had anticipated him to hold back a smile as he eagerly signed on the dotted line. But here Derek was, needing the front door of his trailer for support. If she looked closely, Addison could see actual pain—genuine pain making creases in his forehead. He cared. In this moment. She had to remember it wasn't always like this. Sooner or later Derek would want Meredith back, and she would simply be the barrier in the way of that. Remember that, Addison; remember that before you walk back in to that trailer.
"Wh—what? Why?" Derek's tone was flustered, and he ran a hand through his thick hair. His eyes darted all over his surroundings, never finding peace. He looked about ready to pace anxiously back and forth for hours. Addison held in a giddy smile. That's what he did when something he was truly invested in went south. That's what he did when he cared. She tapped her heel against the metal porch below her feet, and the clicks of the Jimmy Choos reminded her of Mark. He was waiting for her; waiting for her with love. Addison was about ready to pull her hair out. But she kept the image of the lone Yankee Candle in her mind to keep her position firm. She had to divorce Derek.
"This is what you've wanted since you found out about me and Mark, Derek. Don't make this difficult now." Her stern tone made her muscles feel stronger, and she could see her future with Mark almost crystal clear now. But then Derek gave her that look. That puppy-dog look, with his nose a little pink and his eyes a tad watery. She'd always had a weakness for that look. "Why now? Why do you care now?" She was almost whispering now, and she wasn't even sure if he could hear her over the rain.
Derek hesitated, running a finger along the outline of his chin. He was in pensive thought, and began to pace now, taking his weight off of the door. It swung freely, lightly; Addison clutched it with her left hand, unwilling to let it swing. It couldn't. She didn't quite know why, but that trailer door swinging made her tense up significantly. It held the faint memory of something—something long since gone.
"We're working things out, Addie," Derek told her feebly. The tone made her chest tingle, until she remembered: remembered that it was Mark who had first called her Addie. He'd gotten Derek in the habit of doing it too. It was Mark's name for her, and now Derek was trying to use it to save his marriage with her. "Eleven years of marriage doesn't just end. That's why I didn't sign the papers earlier. I want to try, Addison, I do. I'm committed to figuring out a way to make this work. I thought you were too."
Addison sighed deeply, placing the back of her right hand on her forehead. She pressed a bit of her knuckle to her skull, trying to find the sanity to think. She'd gotten herself into such a terrible bind, she couldn't even find words. Not even words of confusion. All she could hear was Mark, Derek; Derek, Mark. The names pranced and prodded, dragging dagger-like pains all over her brain.
"You still look at Meredith like she's the one you want. I see the glances you give to her—they're not nothing; they're not just friendly. You still love her, Derek. And as long as you do, we have nothing to fix here. Whether you've realized it or not, you've moved on." The words were painful for her to say. Painful, because she finally had to accept them as the truth. Addison couldn't pretend anymore—it wasn't feasible.
Anxious anger rose within Derek; Addison could see it clearly. His eyes grew darker—she'd always thought it was a myth that people's eyes can actually do that, but it was happening right in front of her. A tiny part of her grew nervous; very nervous. She knew he'd never hurt her, but the way he was looking at her now, anything seemed possible. He stepped closer to her, parts of his hair getting drenched from the rain. It was only then that Addison realized she was still standing out in it. Her makeup must be a train wreck of blackness by now, with no distinctive beginnings or endings.
Derek reached out and touched her forearm tenderly. It was a dramatic change—and his eyes were still darker than normal. "Addison, you are my wife. I still love you. Even though every part of my body is telling me to move on, I can't. You're Addison, and I'm Derek. That's how it's supposed to be. I'm not ready to let that go just yet." He sounded genuine, the words seemed genuine, but Addison couldn't be sure. Mark had just come into town—Derek couldn't deny that had an effect on him. She didn't want to go back with him if he was just resurrecting his power-struggle with Mark. She couldn't take it if she was just some object to be won and then placed in the attic.
"You don't even wear your ring, Derek," Addison replied tiredly. "How am I supposed to take you seriously if you can't even keep your ring on? It's one of the simplest things to do, and you can't even do it. Please don't tell me about wanting to fix us. Just sign the papers. You can go back to Meredith, and I can—" and I can go back to Mark. She couldn't say it. Something kept the words lodged in her throat. Derek just seemed so tender right now; she didn't want to break him. Not while he was fighting to keep her. She twisted her ring around her finger. Derek's eyes flickered down to her movement, and he bit his lip. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a little round piece of gold. He held it up to her.
"I have it with me every day," he told her simply. "I just don't wear it because—because I 'm not sure how committed you are. Tell me, Addison, tell me you want to fix this too." Derek was pleading with her now. It was a dramatic role reversal for them, and Addison felt the pain of new and old wounds well up in her chest. She hadn't realized how hard it was to be the person being pleaded to.
"I slept with your best friend, Derek," she said almost bitterly, "and you're begging for me back? Just three months ago you were throwing me out of our house. And now you want me to stay… to stay and fix things?" She rubbed her temples with her right hand, her left still firmly gripping the trailer door.
Derek sighed. "At least come inside and fight about this. You don't want to catch a cold." Addison couldn't understand him. Not a single bit. There had been so much hate in him, so much anger, and so much pain. And now he was ushering her inside so she wouldn't get sick? No one could ever accuse Derek Shepherd of being predictable. Addison could hear Mark's laugh in the back of her head though, and it kept her outlook in place. Derek was the past, Mark is the future.
"No," she said with a jerk. "No. Just tell me right here, right now, why you are so set on fixing this." Derek was tearing her to shreds; literally picking at her piece by piece until there was nothing left. Was this some kind of cruel joke of his? Some twisted form of payback?
"I saw the way you looked at Mark today," Derek said, "and all I wanted was for you to look at me like that. We've both made mistakes, Addie. No one is innocent here. All we can do is move forward, and I want to do that with you." He crossed his arms, stepping away from the door, so she could walk inside. Her right foot took a step forward, and she caught a glance of the black tip of her shoe. Mark, Addison, you belong with Mark.
"I can't start fresh with you when your driving factor is the way I looked at Mark. I just—I can't do that." She stepped away from the door, her body itching to go back down the tiny stairs. "Just sign the papers. You can give them to me tomorrow." Crossing her arms, she backed away from him entirely, and went back down the stairs.
A part of her wanted Derek to call out to her—beg her to stay. But she couldn't allow herself to think that way—it would lead her nowhere good. She picked up her pace.
"Addison!" Derek's frantic voice caught Addison's attention, and she turned around quickly. He ran to her, his perfectly cut blue sweater getting drenched. Uncrossing her arms, she waited as he made his way to her. Eyes glistening, cheeks red, he took her left hand in his. "I love you, Addison. I love you for your wit, and your charm, and your smarts. I love you because you make me feel like—like me. We fight, we don't see eye to eye, but that's how it's supposed to be sometimes. I don't want to give up on us, because if I don't give this a fair shot, I'll regret it forever."
Addison felt herself shaking. She saw Mark's eyes in Derek's, Derek's in Mark's. She'd wrapped herself in such a terrible web, she didn't see any way out. Not even one, horribly hard to get out of, way. She'd never known what it felt like to have her entire world crash down around her until now. It was a tragic scene, and Derek was looking at her with such dedication. No, not again.
"Derek, I don't want fixing our marriage to be some duty. You have the papers—just sleep on it, and we can talk tomorrow, alright? Right now, I just—I need time to think." She was shivering now, partly from adrenaline, partly from the cold. Addison was being pulled in two very different directions, and she was in too deep with both of them to leave. She couldn't leave. She loved Mark, she loved Derek. There was no easy decision, no clear cut winner. Addison realized that love was a bloody mess, scrambled, with hazy lines, and hard to mend wounds. Mark, Derek; Derek, Mark…
Right after I wrote the last chapter, I just had to write this one. I absolutely adore the Mark/Addison/Derek love triangle, and I truly love her with both of them. Sorry if Derek's reaction was somewhat out of character for him, but I needed it for the plot line (which I'm still figuring out, so if you have ideas, that would be marvelous) and for my own delusional ships. Why do I always have to pick the couples that are doomed? Sigh. Anyway, I really hope you liked chapter two!
Reviews are love!