After living in Seattle for nearly two years, Addison Montgomery was still living in a hotel. Well, there was the brief stint in Derek's trailer, but his trailer can hardly be considered her home. Two years and all she had to show for it was a failed marriage and a number of healthier patients. Her life had become ridiculous, and she knew it. She buried herself in work, making her patients her first priority and her own life taking second. She ignored her problems, hoping that maybe everything would work itself out. She had become Derek. And she knew from experience life didn't work that way, but it was easier to go on pretending than to put herself back together, because she didn't even know where to start.

It had been four days since Mark had asked her to go to New York with him. Four days, and he was everywhere. He left countless messages on her voicemail, he waited for her at nurse's stations, watched her surgeries from the gallery, and waited for her outside her office. Addison took to taking the stairs and abandoning the papers that were piling up in her office. She couldn't talk to him; not yet, she had no idea what to say to him. But he was nearly impossible to avoid. He was always there.

-----

Mark had always seemed to be there when Derek wasn't. That night he had shown up when Derek had called home to tell her that he had a late surgery. She got out a bottle of wine and he sat up with her. Talking; just talking.

After all the times she thought she had seen him looking at her, their eyes met. This time he didn't turn away. She could feel herself getting closer to him, but she had no idea what she was doing. And all at once her lips were on his and his hands were on her body. She could feel him all over.

He hesitated on the steps; pulling back, making her look at him. Was this really what she wanted? She told herself that it was; he had been there, he had looked at her like Derek used to. She needed that. She needed to be wanted by someone. She needed him, because their bodies colliding was so wickedly satisfying.

She saw him standing in the doorway, and her heart sank. His body was tensed and his face was ridden with absolute indifference. He stared right into her eyes, disgusted, and then slowly turned away, making his way down the darkened hallway. She whispered his name, pushing Mark's hands away from her thighs.

The rain lasted into the next day. Derek was gone and his words had echoed through her all night, not letting her sleep. She had gone through the entire house, scrubbing everything clean until her hands were raw and blistered. The door opened and for a fleeting moment she tried to convince herself it was Derek. But suddenly there was Mark standing against the couch, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. She collapsed into his arms, completely exhausted.

She stayed with him to justify to herself what she had done. She had ruined everything she had in a matter of minutes. She refused to let Mark be the person who she used to get back at her husband. She wasn't going to be the bitch that sleeps with her husband's best friend to get his attention. There had to be something there, she needed something to be there, and maybe there was. She made herself be happy with him, and there were times when she genuinely was happy. Or as happy as she would let herself be. He made her laugh and he made her feel like she wasn't as repulsive as she felt. But whenever he touched her all she could feel was that rain beating down on her, and there she was, begging for Derek to let her back inside.

The stick was blue. Damn it. When did she let her life become a bad episode of Dynasty? It was all so fucking poetic. She had to tell him, didn't she?

She had walked in on them; in the on-call room of all places, he hadn't even taken the time to leave the hospital they both worked in. It was so cheap. She was a nurse, Charlene. She hadn't expected it to hurt. She had promised herself not to have expectations. After all, he was Mark. She made the appointment that afternoon.

She felt empty. Empty and exhausted. She flipped open her cell phone to listen to the message from Richard Webber one more time. It still hurt. Maybe she had let herself love Mark, maybe just a little.

-----

She checked the Board, he was in surgery. She headed quickly to her office, locking the door behind her. There was work to be done and she didn't have nearly enough time to even put a dent in it before her next surgery. She sat down at her desk, overwhelmed by the daunting stack of papers piled on her desk. A blank envelope sat on the top of the first stack. She opened it carefully and a plane ticket fell gently into her lap. Somehow he was always there.