~-~-~-~-~-~
The Clockwise Witness
- DeVotchKa
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Dr. Bailey!" Richard yells down the hall and waits for the short woman to come to a screeching halt at the sound of his voice. That's how things work around here but oddly she keeps pressing forward, a little more toward the coffee down the hall. She's not awake enough for this conversation.
"Miranda!" Richard scolds when he catches up to her, the cup already glued to her lips.
"Chief, you looking for me?"
Richard scowls and lets out a huff. "I need your help."
"Regarding?"
"Addison," he begins and watches her face fall substantially. "And Derek. I need to know what they are doing."
"You try asking them?"
"I woke up this morning and she was sitting in his lap, on my porch, waiting for my coffee!"
"Seems pretty obvious what they are or were doing." Miranda clears her throat. "I need to go. Patients, lives, surgery."
"Miranda," Richard stops her by the sleeve of her lab coat. "I need you to watch them for me. I can't be everywhere all the time...and this can't be like New York. My hospital doesn't need to be any more of a circus than it already is. We are number 12 for crying out loud!"
"Well, certainly, with Dr. Montgomery back sir, we are no longer number 12. As for your mission, I am a surgeon. A good surgeon. A skilled surgeon. And people need me...so they can live. I don't have time to chase those two idiots down the hall and berate them. Find someone else."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Chief," George squeaks. "You needed me?"
Richard stares at his pack of interns, begging for work and then mumbles something incoherent. "Follow me O'Malley."
"Yes sir." George waves along his posse.
"You're a sponge O'Malley, one of the best. I need you on this," Richard says seriously leading them toward the OR Board.
George tries to wipe the frown off his face. Ever since becoming a resident he's actually done less impressive work then he did as a second year intern. At whatever rate, this could be interesting. "Okay."
"You need to get rid of your interns though, this is a solo operation."
George's eyes widen briefly before realizing that this has nothing to do with cutting people open. He flips around to face his haggard looking crew. "Pit guys. Go." He gives them an apologetic look when they begin to bitch and then shrugs. If there was a best teacher, he'd so be it. "So, who am I spying on today?"
"Dr. O'Malley," Richard gasps and then gives up. "Shepherd and Montgomery. I need you to make sure they are never together. You have my permission to rearrange the board. People complain you send them to me."
"This seems-"
"And if they are together, you watch. Observe for a minute and then you break it up. Fake page, drag Montgomery off to look at babies, tell her one of them isn't breathing, I don't care. At the end of the day you report back to me."
"Yes sir," George groans. Boring as usual. And he thinks he is about to get a lot of grief. There's nothing like looking like an idiot to brighten your morning.
"Don't let me down," Richard warns.
"I won't," George complies and then studies the board. For the first half of the day he's going to be dragging his feet around the halls looking in longingly at people with real cases because they both are in surgery until noon, in separate operating rooms. Some job.
By 3 o'clock George hasn't even had them glaring at each other in the hallways, and evidently Shepherd is taking off early, at 5, for some unknown reason, so the rest of George's 7 hour shift is going to get more boring than he thought possible.
At 7 o'clock on his third day of watch, with nothing new to report, Chief finally pulled him off duty for the day and told him to find something to scrub in on. Montgomery or Shepherd though. At least it's work.
His big break came on day five, just outside the cafeteria, as they paused after almost running right into one another.
"Dr. Montgomery," Derek nods, doing his best to keep up the decorum. It wasn't discussed but both obviously thought it better than to drag whatever they are doing into work with them.
"Dr. Shepherd," Addison mumbles back, eyes trained to the piece of paper so her cheeks won't blush about the date they have in six hours. It took him four whole days to call her, and for the entirety she felt like there was a box of cement sitting on her chest, restricting her breathing.
"How are the babies?" he asks to keep her there, if she leans in just a little closer he could smell her. The sterility of the hospital and light touch of something purely Addison, he's missed it. Besides he has a thing for smells.
"Good, how are the brains?" she returns, unwillingly, wanting to get out of this situation where everyone can see exactly what they are doing and scrutinize every movement. Surely, by now the news of the Dreamy relationship being on the rocks has hit the airwaves and she is not going to get mixed up in that story no matter how much she is actually involved. She's here for work, and a little bit of Derek. Not that she knows where that is going, not that they talk about it's implications.
It's easier not to speak. Always has been for them.
"They're broken," he kids, "but as long as I get to repair them I'm a happy camper. Good luck with you 4:15 today Dr. Montgomery," he says biting back the need to add that she won't need luck because he's watched her do that exact procedure twenty hundred times and she's always amazing. They operate the same. Calm, gentle but complete control, uptight and concerned only when necessary. It is the ins and outs of the game, the only way not to wear yourself down with the grind. He's lost more than he's saved, she has double the chance. Neither are wonderful odds. Neither is something they enjoy dealing with.
"Thank you Dr. Shepherd," she states, voice nervously betraying her. You would think after all these years she would stop being a giddy mess but no, oh no, that'd be too easy.
"Dr. Montgomery," George intervenes when neither makes a move to get away. "They-we need you in the NICU, one of the babies isn't...breathing."
"No one paged me," Addison tells him, making sure the contraption on her hip still has battery life.
"No time." He daringly grabs her hand and yanks.
"O'Malley!" Addison screeches, pulling back her own limb.
"We need to hurry," he trots off quickly, not seeing her shrug to Derek or him smile back in a daze.
When they arrive, almost every sick baby sleeping soundly, no monitors blaring or nurses scrambling, George tries to hide.
"Dr. O'Malley, can you explain what the hell you think-"
"That one!" He points to a small premature infant with a blue hat, "He wasn't, I swear."
"What are you even doing up here? You weren't assigned. I know, I can read-"
"Dr. Montgomery," he pauses out of breath, "Shouldn't you be scrubbing in?"
Addison pulls her mouth back tightly, ready to unleash on this fishy situation, "What is going on?"
"No-nothing," George stutters and leans against the wall as casually as possible. "Nothing."
"You can tell me George. I'm not here to hurt you. Tell me what is happening," she coaxes with a warm smile.
"I don't know what you are talking about," George replies and taps his watch pointedly.
Addison takes the hint and begins to walk in the other direction. "I'm watching you O'Malley!"
"Great," George moans. That will make his job so much easier.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Derek smoothes his tie down over his chest before loosening it for the fifth time. He looks in the mirror curiously. Watch - check, wallet - check, matching shoes - check, clean underwear - check. He tightens the tie again, making sure there are no wrinkles in the light blue button down. His nerves rise and swell in the pit of his stomach and frankly he'd rather be operating blind than trying to venture out on a successful date with Addison tonight. But this must be done. There are steps in a relationship.
This is what you do, he tells himself, his brain trying to get a word in about how ridiculous it is to date someone he's lived with for over a decade.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Addison carefully outlines her lashes with the smooth black liquid, mindful not to poke herself in the eye. She investigates both seriously, making sure they are even and balanced. Then she tiptoes out of the entry way onto the sinfully plush carpet to grab her shoes off the end of the bed. She feels the dizziness kick in as her heart begins to pump faster. In ten minutes she'll officially be on her second first date with the love of her life.
Not that it's important. Just a night out. Dinner, drinks, casual talk before more than likely mind-blowing sex.
Maybe, on second thought, it is important.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Derek knocks on the bathroom door, his signal for when he is ready to pick her up, since they are both currently hiding out in a hotel room.
"Hey," she grins, pulling back the door to find him now currently dressed and ready. "You look nice."
"You don't look so bad yourself," he teases, taking in the dip of her green dress. "You wear that for everyone?"
"Just you," she grins before leaning in and pecking his lips. She pulls back, flushed and twittering. "Maybe we should just do this."
"Do what?" Derek asks, drifting away from the bath tub and looking around for his coat. He's certain he threw it down on a chair when they came in two hours ago.
"Get it over with," she squeaks, following behind him restlessly, ankles threatening to give out at any point.
"Get it over with," Derek repeats unsure.
"You know," Addison says softly. "Get it over with. Rip off the band-aid. Then we can have a nice dinner and not be so wound up." She places a hand on his chest, trying to pop a few buttons out of place.
"Addison." Derek backs away. "We aren't-"
"It's going to be awkward no matter what and if we do it now then we can enjoy our evening instead of sitting there thinking about it the entire time."
"You assumed you'd be getting lucky on the first date," Derek huffs.
She smiles instantly, "I did the first time."
"This isn't- we aren't," he pauses trying to gather his thoughts. "If it happens, it happens but right now we should go eat. We have reservations so get your coat."
"We are only going down to the lobby," Addison opposes. They aren't ready to be seen. Hell she can hardly stand still when he is near. Everything is screaming that this is wrong. Every part of her heart is trying to give her fair warning that it'll end up like it always does with Derek but she wouldn't be Addison if she didn't continue on with him. It's their song and dance, she's just waiting to see it turn out differently for once because tripping and falling over his feet through the bridge is starting to get old.
"Get your coat," he demands and begins walking. He saves it until they are waiting for the elevator before explaining. "This is a date. We are...I don't know what we are Addie but I want to do it right."
"Right," she questions hesitantly.
"We can't screw this up again."
"And you are assuming we can do this to begin with."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I told you," Addison breathes haughtily, chest rising and falling at an residually quick rate, making it kind of difficult to be utterly smug in the dim light of her hotel room.
Derek wipes the trickle of sweat of his forehead, presses a kiss to her nose and falls back onto the warm sheets utterly exhausted. "Uh huh."
"No argument?" Addison dares playfully. Dinner was soured by both their moods and preconceived expectations. She tried, in vain, to engage him the in elevator but he held his ground and now, at one in the morning, she has proven him incorrect exactly once. Addison curls into his side without thinking, and relishes in the fingers raking through her hair. She's missed this. Kevin would cuddle but nothing is ever the same as it is with Derek. She likes to think, in retrospect, that he ruined her. Disgraced the men that would come later because they weren't supposed to be there. Even Mark wasn't right. She didn't fit like this even though it was comfortable at times.
"Too tired to fight," Derek exhales largely, trying to gather his thoughts. His eyes fall closed involuntarily a few minutes later, beginning to drift off until she squirms around, readjusting her neck against his shoulder. "You're kind of a monster."
"I'm taking that as a good thing," she laughs, slowly climbing back into his lap, and blazing a trail down his flushed chest with her swollen lips.
"It's...that's nice," Derek babbles, only aware of the pleasure beginning to peak again. In the course of only a few years he's forgotten many things about the person his heart still calls his wife, including her insatiable appetite for all things him. Even when it was outright horrible; even when he was pretending it was another woman.
"Want to tell me what else you think is nice?" She asks trying to look interested as she shimmies her body further down, hovering just enough to tease him. Inviting him to try and keep her up all night.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"We should probably...talk," Derek initiates, pouring a glass for them both. Something nice and strong because heaven knows they'll need a buzz to do this.
"Talk about what?" Addison asks, slipping out of her skirt, reaching up to untangle her hair so that it can fall to her shoulders. He likes it longer, something to play with he says, and she has no qualms about giving up the short bob.
"Addie," Derek pleads. They've been doing this for nearly three weeks and it's not that he doesn't enjoy it, it's just that her short term lease is starting to run up and California and all its collective worries are beginning to boil on the backburner.
"Derek," she returns, a smile in place, a silent challenge rising between them. She pulls her blouse off gracefully, and leaves the heels for a fun touch.
"Addison, sit please."
"You want me to sit?" She steps slowly to the chair opposite of him and then leans forwards, elbows resting on the table, his eyes following exactly where she wants them. She smirks when he stands, and begins pacing.
"We aren't talking."
"It's overrated."
"You don't think that," Derek huffs, "Stop playing games. We don't have that kind of time."
"Relax," Addison counsels, standing only to start rubbing his shoulders.
"You leave in a one month, one week, and five days. How can I relax when you won't talk to me?"
"I don't want to have this conversation," she admits, releasing her hold, something that has been working splendidly until this point. Feeling out of place she wraps a robe around herself from the back of the bathroom door and then rejoins him, alcohol instantly going to her mouth. Getting naked is not going to help her out tonight.
"I'm not in this for a good time," Derek says suddenly, words backed up from all the sexually diverted arguments of the past. "I...need to know where your head is at."
"All of your stuff is still at Meredith's," Addison says flatly. "Where is your head?"
"I haven't had a chance to pick it up," Derek counters. Really, he is just avoiding the hell out of the situation. He hasn't even had the gall to end it with any sort of decency. Just her demand that he leave and now he hasn't been back since. They speak at work, she doesn't seem mad like the last time, and part of him is wondering if anyone even knows this is happening behind closed doors.
"And I haven't had a chance to think about this." This time she drains the glass and makes a point of pouring another one to drink in the quiet, traffic and city noise their only company as the tension begins to seep back in. It was fun while it lasted, the sex and the company. It was nice to have his friendship back in her life even if this was always looming in the background.
"Well maybe we should sort both of those things out," he stammers, yanking his car keys off the end table and marching toward the door.
"Where are you going?" She jumps instantly, the sliding of the metal chain jolting her back into fight mode. He will not walk out on her again. She can't handle that.
"I'm going to go get my stuff and you're going to sit here, without alcohol," he snatches the bottle and pours it into the bathroom sink. "And figure this out."
She watches the door quiver long after he's gone. She could order more alcohol, or simply walk over to the mini bar and pull out something delightful but she won't and he knows it. Instead, she climbs into bed, robe and all, and pulls the covers over her head until her breath is warm in the enclosed space and her mind drowsy.
Thinking about what they are doing or are not doing isn't an option. That's not what she's here for and it hasn't been a long enough period of time for the cuts to have healed. She's still practically black and bruised from the beating her divorce hit her with. Asleep within minutes, her day long and challenging without Derek's demands, she doesn't notice him slip in two hours later with a red cheek and a bag of ice on his face.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"What happened?" Addison asks for the fiftieth time, over a required breakfast of cereal and coffee. She's never been really keen to the idea of a full meal right after waking up but eventually other people's habits begin to wear on you.
"Nothing, drop it," Derek answers, again the same, again shoveling another spoonful of fiber into his mouth. The milk dribbles onto the table, pooling, and he leaves it. Another mess he doesn't want to deal with.
"Derek half of your face is still red, I think something happened. Can I at least look at it?"
"And I think it's not a big deal, eat." He points at her nearly full bowl and doesn't remove his judgment until she chews silently.
He knocks because it's no longer his place, and in fact, he isn't surprised to see Mark opening up the door in nothing more than an undershirt and a pair of gray sweats.
"Hey, Meredith here?" Derek asks, trying to peep past his friend and evaluate the situation.
Mark's open hand contacts with Derek's cheekbone instantly, then he allows the door swing back open as he swaggers toward the kitchen, hand buzzing with excitement.
"What-" Derek rushes after him. Sure, they're barely above going through an all out brawl on the dining room table, but he's pretty certain he's entitled to knowing what the fuck that was about.
"Preemptory strike Derek," Mark slaps some ice into a bag and thrusts it forward. "Your shit is in the study."
"Preempt-"
"For when you hurt her again," Mark illuminates, pacing through the hallway toward the stairs. "And you will hurt her again," he fills in before Derek can object. "That's what you guys do. Plus if I recall correctly, you had that coming. Just be thankful I don't want to damage these hands." It's a little bit for Meredith, a lot for Addison, and a touch for himself because after all the ridiculous crap they've been through Mark thinks this one takes the cake. Why must people divorce one another to get on with their relationship?
Derek balks silently while his best friend takes a hike upstairs, and then he systematically loads as many boxes as he can into his old rickety car and heads back to Addison, one set of fingers on the wheel, the other permanently attached to the ice.
"Where's your stuff?" She asks after a moment of him staring off into space, her eyes darting around the room wildly, needing a sign to believe in this.
"What are we doing here?" he counters, and swirls his fingers in the space between them. When she doesn't answer he sighs, "Guess we both have our answers."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Derek spends his nights clutching a pillow, staring up at the clouds above his bed, watching the rain fall perilously from above. Sleep never comes, and he stops expecting it to on the third day. He said he needed time apart, after only weeks of saying that they didn't have time to screw around, after pushing her to a breaking point on the very subject and suddenly he doesn't think he has what it takes to do this again.
He doesn't have the energy to fight with her, and he doesn't have the strength to live without her. So he tosses and turns, feet tangled under the rumpled sheets, his senses confused, his heart aching.
She has three weeks left and he needs help.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Addison," Callie steers her down the hall, well out of ear shot of all the nosy nurses. "What is your problem?"
"Nothing," Addison refutes defensively, brushing a few fingers through her knotted hair.
"You have been on edge endlessly. You snapped at Bailey," Callie purses her lips. "Not a good move in the grand scheme of things."
"I didn't mean to," Addison replies. "I...she was in the way and I needed-"
"She had it handled."
"She didn't-"
"She did, and you overrode her authority in front of a large group of people. I have never seen you do that before, ever, especially not to a peer. And out of everyone here you wouldn't do it to Miranda. Spill."
"There's nothing to spill." Addison begins to scurry away before she is met with a firm palm to the shoulder, shoving her through a dark doorway. The latch catches loudly and makes her jump back into the conference room table. Her hand flies to her chest and she tries to trick the fear by fiddling with her long gold necklace.
"You're going to sit and we're going to talk. This is what friends do and considering I just covered for you with the Chief I'd say you owe me."
"You didn't-"
"Is this about stupid Dr. ...Derek?" Callie asks, slipping into a chair and sliding it back against the closed door. They're going to get this out and no one is leaving the room until they do.
"No," Addison scoffs immediately. This isn't about him...or the fact that he hasn't been in her bed for eleven days.
"What did he do?"
"He hasn't done anything...I'm just stressing about leaving here again and going back to California. I'm going to miss you," Addison grins pathetically, hoping it works, and crosses one leg over another.
"I'll miss you too, but I'm not buying that."
"Callie-"
"I have all day." Callie leans back in her chair, stretching her limbs and slouching down to the point where uncomfortable nearly meets comfortable. It doesn't matter because she looks relaxed and in charge, and that's key here.
Addison looks down, noticing that she has a few free hours herself, hours that originally would have been spent with Derek and possibly a cute viewfinder while they shared a nice lunch. "We better order something to eat then."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Sir, I don't know you...or...Dr. Montgomery," George whimpers, his attending squaring off with him as they scrub out. He's lost count of what day it is on his mission and while he's learned more about the human brain then he ever wanted to know, he has yet to see either doctor spend more than a minute with each other. And frankly, this conversation, is not only one he doesn't want to be having, but one he also doesn't want to have to relay upwards.
"I wasn't asking about Dr. Montgomery," Derek reels instantly.
"But you and Meredith aren't together anymore right? I mean, Izzie said you haven't been there-"
"No, I haven't been there," Derek laments. Maybe this would have been easier if he just stuck to one woman. He should have known this was too complicated to do. Date, marry, cheat, divorce, date? Things don't go in that order. Though, he thinks it's important to note, that it's kind of a circle and save two things in the cycle he wouldn't mind going through it again.
"Dr. Shepherd-"
"Never mind O'Malley," Derek decides instantly. "I just remembered I need to go do something."
~-~-~-~-~-~
He's there waiting for her, outside the hotel room, sitting atop the thick carpet because she has this thing about people letting themselves into her space. It's only been an hour and twenty minutes but judging by her frown it's been a long day.
Addison nearly steps on her ex-husband, eyes not caring to watch where she is going as the floor is usually mostly vacant. She sighs and unlocks the door, leaving it open for him to follow. He does, and she pours them both a drink before kicking out of her painfully high heels and flopping onto the bed to hear his latest arguments. "Go," she urges, needing to move quickly, not wanting anything but logic used in the conversation. She's past feeling. It's been analyzed and then analyzed again. Three more weeks and she's gone and no matter what her heart may be yelling, Addison knows deep down that this cannot work again.
"No interrupting," Derek requests and waits until she gives him a nod. "I was thinking-" he halts as she opens her mouth with a surely tart comment about how that's a new thing. "You listen, and then you can go. You never were one for taking turns."
Addison presses a finger to her lips and zips them, trying to be ignorant and tune out his voice. It's impossible. Even a whisper of his tone makes her shiver. He can be heard before he's seen, something her years of tracking and hunting him down in New York taught her.
"I want this," Derek comments outright. "And I'm sure you've spent our time apart coming up with nine-hundred objections but maybe if you could just...curb those for the next few weeks and go with the flow you will understand how I feel."
"Is that it?" She asks unimpressed after a few moments of silence.
"That...and I'm sorry I thought I needed space. I needed to be with you and you shut down and I reacted how I always react by retreating but I realize now that I can't do that anymore. I need to fight. I will fight. For this, for you. Because you deserve it and because I never did it when I should have."
She swoons without intent, angry at herself for being swayed, but by the time his lips reach hers she's already waving the white flag high in the air. Never mind the fact that his grand speech saves nothing, it makes her feel better, especially after spending two tortuous hours with a prying Callie wondering why in the world no one had a pressing ortho incident she could be paged for.
~-~-~-~-~-~
She finds that her last days fly at a rate she is greatly uncomfortable with. They share ice cream, spilling on the couch in her room, and snuggle long after everyone would find it appealing. He takes her out, offering a hand before she can search for it. And when their schedules allow they hit the tourist attractions, Derek giving Addison the welcome she should have had the first go around.
At some point it stops being a visit. At some point it becomes about him. Then it's as obsessive as it was the first time. He's addicting, he knows it, and she can't help but fall prey to the routine.
She reschedules lunches, they cancel surgeries for more time together, and she catches him watching her sleep instead of getting his own rest. It's flattering, she can't deny that, but it's also worrisome because it's so wrenchingly familiar. They don't seem to date traditionally, they fall back into old patterns, skipping over the bad parts, making believe that this is what was supposed to happen.
So when she begins watching Meredith more carefully it's only a precaution. Because she knows the next step in their dance and it involves the blonde that he still lights up over too much for her taste. When broached lightly, he replied that they work together and that Meredith Grey shows an immense amount of promise in the field of Neurology. Not that it isn't true, but Addison doesn't trust it.
She doesn't trust him.
~-~-~-~-~-~
He supposes it began, if he had to pinpoint, around the second week they got back together. He finds himself more attentive, nearly suffocating. Partly to make his point, to prove his word, but also out of fear. Because when they aren't all the way on then they are off and he knows exactly what happens when they are off. Distant, unrelatable, and too far away to grasp she seeks the pleasure of another.
He meant it when he said he had forgiven her, but his gut questions that specific every second of every day. Creeping questions into her conversations with that new guy who loves babies and who undeniably has more free time than he does to court her with. The crazy thoughts latch onto the way and the angle at which she holds his hand at any given moment of the day, and how that compares with the old times, back when they were both naively faithful.
It's natural, he'd be willing to bet, that this sort of thing occurs. It's a hurdle for everyone who has been injured, a major stepping stone for difficult relationships to overcome. But that knowledge doesn't stop him for squeezing her tighter and glaring in Mark's direction without prompting. And it certainly doesn't keep him away when she has a working dinner. Instead, he and his doubt conspire and link arms, joining in the spying of her meal, not at all surprised but still incredibly relieved when she exits unscathed.
He doesn't trust her.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Derek glances at the clock on the wall, burying his head into her lengthening tresses once more. It's D-day, and they haven't discussed the next step. They've been too busy with one another, compulsively worrying when separated. There's been no time for that thought. Regrettably.
She's been feeling like vomiting from the moment she understood where this was headed. It's a shame, and she's the fool, somehow none the wiser for every single experience they've been through. The only thing she doesn't get is how it slipped by her, how in the world she thought this could be so different, why in heaven's name she had faith that they needn't be concerned.
"Derek, sleep please," she mumbles crankily.
"You're awake," Derek croaks, throat constricted and dry.
"Because you're awake and you know how I feel about people watching me sleep. It's weird." She turns over, diving her head into his chest, in the likeliness that this will dissolve into emotional tears.
The tension in the room magnifies as she winds her fingers through his gray shirt, complicatedly making knots out of fabric and forcing his chest collapse in on itself. "Are you leaving today?" he dares quietly. "Addie..." he says softly when she doesn't reply but inches closer, legs tangling together out of her own accord.
"My contract is up," is all she can get out, voice annoyingly shaky.
"That's not what I asked."
"Naomi is expecting me. I have...a job."
"Excuse," Derek accuses instantly. He knows how this boxing ring works.
"I need to go," Addison answers, cheering herself on. It would never work. She spends too many minutes trying to figure out how many centimeters are between Meredith and Derek when they work and how that coincides to their dates. She spends too many damn minutes with the word Meredith outlining her thoughts.
"Will you be returning?" He holds his breath, lungs ceasing painfully.
"I," Addison begins and then pauses, "Derek, come on, we knew...this was just-"
"Don't trivialize it," he warns, on edge with her blasé take. "We both know what this is and...I won't have you disregarding it to make it any easier. "
The difference here is despite his constant wavering skepticism he is willing to keep the pursuit going. But he needs her all in, because they don't manage at only 80 percent. They are a difficult breed, with consuming jobs, and a penchant for never being wrong. It takes effort, effort he's not positive she can give.
"I can't," she whispers and gives in to the tears, stilling when he tries to rub her back. It's her own doing, condolences aren't welcome.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I'm asking, I'm pleading Addie." Derek clings to her hand, not willing to let go even though her baggage is already well on its way to being loaded into cargo.
"I...can't. I don't...-"
"I love you, and I know you still love me," he interjects, trying to foresee the argument ahead. "A year doesn't take away what he had. We destroyed out marriage slowly but I always loved you. Always, even when I didn't want to."
She cringes as he makes a public display, ruining her anonymity and possibly the chance that no one will recognize her once she is in her seat.
"I don't trust you!" She finally breaks. "I am terrified, always wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. Who the next blonde will be, will she be even younger, and how will she lure you in." Addison pushes her hands against her stomach, the nausea beginning to bubble.
"I won't-"
"I know that," she interrupts. "Logically, even in my heart, I know you won't. I know it was different, I know I ruined us, I just...can't. I can't live like this."
"Addison," he scolds charmingly. "I'll-"
"I'm always waiting for you to leave me again."
"I won't," he argues, concerned more about the water filling her eyes than the harsh tone she's using. If he makes her cry in public he'll never live it down, never get a chance to see it being lived down.
"It's easier this way," she sniffles angrily. "Let it be easier Derek. We tried, I failed-"
"It's not easier. We tried to be apart, we failed at that-"
"Let it be, please, leave it." She yanks her stolen hand out of his and turns her back, shuffling off to find the closest restroom. She has a reddening nose and puffy eyes that need to be attended to immediately.
She hears him shout at her as she stumbles onward, feels her heart rocketing to her feet as she boards alone.
It wasn't just a short trip, but she wishes it could've been.
~-~-~-~-~-~
A/N: What you wanted? Doubtful. I should have an epilogue-ish thingy soon (midterms) that will appease the rest of you hungry masses. I enjoy their utter dysfunction, though a bit of fluff is always nice as well. Thanks for reading!