Chapter 14: Be the Lightning in Me (That Strikes Relentless)
AN: Chapter title comes from the three-part song "The Lightning Strike," specifically Part One: What if this Storm Ends? and it's from Snow Patrol's 5th album, A Hundred Million Suns. Definitely another song that I would recommend you find and listen to while reading!
Breakfast on Friday morning was … awkward, to say the least. Mark and Lexie seemed to be speaking again, at least civilly, but Addison would not meet anyone's eyes, and Derek kept catching Mark looking at him. The children were still in bed, which he was thankful for because even they would have been able to pick up on the tension at the table. No one as of yet knew about his calling it quits with Meredith—as far as he knew, anyway; it was difficult to tell with these people. But it was his new policy to refrain from secrets, which he used as an excuse for the way he chose to break the silence.
"Meredith and I are getting a divorce," he said conversationally before taking a bit out of his toast. "I just wanted everyone to know first hand so I'm not accused of keeping anything from anyone again. We're all one big happy family here, right?"
"Derek," said his mother from across the table, "I'm very sorry to hear this. There's no chance of reconciling?"
"Well, let's see. She knew, long before I did, about Carson and kept that information from me. And I slept with another woman, had a child with that woman, and have spent the last month in the company of her. No, we are definitely not reconciling."
"What of James?" said Carolyn, looking a bit stern.
"Assuming she even would want him, I plan to fight for custody. Not full custody; I'm not a monster," he added at the looks he was receiving. He was beginning, though, to feel quite aggravated with his wife again, and the sentiment was evident in his tone, he knew. Why had he even put up with her behavior for as long as he had? Didn't he and James both deserve better? Didn't Meredith herself deserve better?
"Please don't speak about my sister that way. She loves James." Lexie's voice was fairly low and quiet.
"Lex, I know she's your sister, but you don't see her with him the way I do. She's different. She's not like you with Sylvia, or Addison with Carson. It's not her fault, I know, but James deserves better than—"
"Let's not all start fighting again, shall we?" said Mrs. Shepherd, glancing between her son and his sister-in-law.
"I don't intend to fight, mother; I have, quite frankly, had enough of this family's drama. All of these secrets are poisoning us, and I will not be a party to a single one more." He held Mrs. Shepherd's gaze intensely, glanced briefly in Lexie's direction, and then resumed his breakfast.
"So," said Mark slowly, "you and Addison, then?"
"No," she said before Derek could respond. He looked up at her, brows furrowed. What was so wrong with him that she could not overlook? He had forgiven her, cleared her on all accounts. Were the things he had done so much worse than what she had done?
Well, yes, probably, he reasoned.
"I don't deserve her forgiveness," he said simply. "And perhaps it would be best to digest moving on from Meredith before jumping into anything new… or renewed, for that matter."
"Huh," said Mark, and Addison said, "How very unlike you."
Was he really that predictable?
Breakfast was finished mostly in silence after that. The children came down at last, and Carolyn Shepherd spoiled them with a breakfast so sugary that Addison was wincing at every bite they shoveled into their mouths. Mark, Lexie, and baby Sylvia had a flight back to Seattle at eight, and so had to leave fairly soon afterward. Lexie was back to not speaking, but Derek did not much care this time because all he had done was speak the truth.
"Derek." He heard his name from behind him after he had come back inside from helping Mark and Lexie load their luggage and infant into their rental car. He was a little surprised to see Addison standing by the kitchen looking concerned.
"Hey, Addie, what's up? I see you're talking to me again." He smiled.
She sighed, arms folded across her chest, gaze fixed on the ground. "Your mom took the kids out to the museum. I told her that it would be fine with you, since we had no plans and aren't leaving til tomorrow morning, if that's okay. I just… wanted to talk."
He nodded, stepping towards her, hands clasped behind his back. "Absolutely. I—"
"I wanted to apologize," she said, cutting him off, "for yesterday. You clearly had your reasons for not telling me that you knew, and I took away your opportunity to be honest on your own terms. So… I'm sorry." The last two words came out almost in a mumble; Addison had never been very good at apologizing for the sake of apology, when there was little or nothing to be gained.
"Addie—" he began, but she cut across him again.
"Hang on. I'm not finished. I'm also sorry for not telling you about her, for pretending that she was, you know, a test tube baby… I suppose that I was just afraid that you wouldn't want her. And I was, most of all … ashamed. Not of you or her, but of myself. I was ashamed that I had let you use me like that. But I'm older and wiser now, I think. I know that you were struggling with things that I will … probably never understand."
Thunder began to roll in the distance, and Derek allotted her a moment to ensure that she was finished speaking before opening his mouth. "Addison, I should be the one apologizing to you. For it to even seem adequate, I estimate that I would have to apologize to you approximately twice a day for the rest of our lives. There's an equation, it's messy. Seriously, I have never felt so awfully about any one action as I feel about … not sleeping with you, I hope you don't think that … but leaving the way I did. I don't know how long exactly after you left for California that I realized I should never have let you leave … but I'm kind of glad that I did, now. We've grown so much as human beings, in the last decade apart. And if we had stayed together, where would we be? Ignoring one another, childless, back in the brownstone?" He captured her gaze intently, inches away from her. He could hear every breath she took. "I can never explain to you how sorry I am, really, for the life you've led because of me and my stupidity; my cowardice. If I could do it all over…" He felt tears swimming in his eyes now. "God damn it, Addison, I can't live without you. That's all there is to it. You are the love of my life, even though it's taken half of it for me to get it through my skull. I love you. I mean, I am madly, passionately, over-the-moon in love with you, and that's been true since our very first date, and I can guarantee willbe true until the day I die. Maybe even beyond. Who knows?"
She was silent, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. And her eyes, those purest ocean-themed eyes, blue one day or green the next, seemed to be searching for something inside of his, while he waited for what seemed an eternity for her to just say something. He wondered how long they would stand there like that, just searching each other's eyes for some sign of whatever it was that they were both looking for. Then she made a strange sound, something between a laugh and a sob. Before he could discern which it was, however, her hands were around the back of his neck, drawing him closer to her body, tears still fresh on her cheeks.
And her lips were dangerously close to his; he could feel the warmth of her breath radiating from his lips to his jawline. She had to remember that this particular position she had him in drove him crazy every time. Helplessly, he tried to lean in to seal the deal, but just as their lips brushed, she caught his bottom one with her teeth briefly before pulling back and giving him a surprisingly passionate, smouldering look; green eyes turned blazing as lightning struck somewhere far in the distance and rain began to crash heavily above them. She was teasing him, he knew—and it was definitely working.
"Addison," he growled under his breath, pinning her to the wall she had leaned against with his body, bracing himself against the wall with palms on either side of her head.
"By the feel of things," she glanced downward with a smirk, "it would seem that I've still got it. Zero to turned on in thirty seconds flat." She leaned to whisper, running a single finger around his ear as she did, down the length of his jaw, and she spoke, "Derek Shepherd, you are so easy."
"Only for you," he whispered back, placing lips on the exposed jugular hungrily, one hand grabbing a fistful of her hair with which to lean back her head. When she didn't protest, he pressed his luck further, trailing his lips to the collarbone. Something fierce, and almost nostalgic, awakened inside of him as he recognized the sound of her attempt to stifle a moan. Had it really been so long since the last time tat they had done this together? Or even at all, in his case at least… Now that he thought about it, it had probably been a year since he had last found time to have sex with his wife. And so he really hoped that wherever this might be leading, Addison wouldn't be walking away disappointed. Which mean that it was time to pull out all the stops.
His lips traveled toward her chest as the thunder drew nearer, drinking up the creamy flesh of her breastbone. Fingers moved skillfully to the zipper of her dress, and he was grateful when she made no move to stop him slipping the straps from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. He beheld the sight before him for as long as he believed was acceptable, and was impressed by the familiar shape of her figure; the lingering perfection of her breasts and hips. Then, without even looking up, he captured her in his arms and carried her into the kitchen, placing her body upon the island countertop. She was grinning as he removed his shirt and moved to lock the kitchen door. As he moved nearer, she wrapped her legs around his waist, one hand unzipping the fly of his slacks, the other tangling in his short dark hair.
And then, finally, they were both completely free of their restraints and her lips were on his, needy and fervent, her tongue reacquainting itself with the particulars of his mouth. He allowed her dominion for a few moments, allowed her hands to slip from his hair and down his chest, toward his groin, taking control of him in ways that elicited a shuddering moan. Then when he knew she had to stop if they were to continue, he gently removed her hand from his body, planting a kiss on the palm.
He cradled her head with one hand, bracing himself against the counter with another. From there, his lips made contact with a breast, nipped it, and continued on their way southward, finally landing with her opening where they busied themselves with licking, nipping, and sucking. And he relished as her taste washed over him, time itself seeming to stop as the storms both inside and outside of the house began to unfold in pitches of electricity, heat, and magnetism. And he began to slow his pace, replacing his mouth with the skilled hand of a seasoned surgeon, as he felt the telltale ripping of her muscles, as she did all in her power to keep from screaming his name. He straightened back up to see a look he proudly recognized upon her face, and with a smile, he slid her closer to him, and found for the first time in six years the pure, unadulterated bliss that was the warmth of her body sliding over his. And for a moment, their eyes locked, stormy blues probing the greens of the ocean, lightning crashed somewhere nearby this time, and everything from there was muscle memory.
o0o0o
Some time later—perhaps minutes, perhaps hours or days—Addison was completely exhausted and drenched in sweat. She wasn't sure how they had managed to get from the kitchen counter to Derek's bedroom—to that familiar old bed—but she knew they had made stops in the living room and a bathroom, too, and that she, herself, had finished not-so-neatly a multiple times, bordering on a personal record, she was sure. She couldn't remember the last time sex had been this good—or varied. And as the aftermath of a thunderstorm drummed on the roof of the old Victorian, the formerly married couple lay tangled together, panting and trying to cool off.
"Well, that was irresponsible," said Derek, glancing over at her and grinning. "You'd think we would have learned our lessons by now."
"If you're referring to the fact that you didn't 'wrap your package' again, then now is probably a good time to tell you that I'm infertile. You used me up last time, don't worry," she added wryly.
"You mean I gave you a daughter you wouldn't trade for anything in the world," he corrected as she laid her head on his bare chest.
"Well, yes." She traced circles around his pectorals for a while, the only sounds coming from the rain and their breathing. Then she stopped as her finger found a scar it hadn't known while they had been married. His old gunshot wound, though Mark had done an excellent job reducing the scarring, was just visible near the area where she felt the thumping of his heart. "She saved you," she whispered, brow knitting together.
"What?" He seemed to not really be listening to her, but clearly lost in his own thoughts.
"When that man shot you, when you almost died, Meredith saved you." She hesitated, unsure whether to carry on with her train of thought. "Why do you think she did that?"
Derek sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I suppose because she actually loved me back then."
Addison moved away from him, propping her head up on an elbow, glancing down at him. "What changed?"
He glanced up at her, frowning. "A lot of things. Things that can't be fixed," he said simply. She could easily tell that he didn't want to talk about whatever those "things" were.
Now that the heat of their storm had cooled, responsibility and reality were beginning to reclaim their hold. "This was a mistake, wasn't it?"
His frown deepened, his brow furrowed as he considered her. "I wouldn't call it that. I don't know about you, but I had a pretty damn good time. We should do this more often, I say. Every day sounds good to me."
"Yes, but … Derek, you're married. Your son has a mother—who isn't me, don't forget. At some point, she loved you—maybe still does, and I know you say you didn't, but I think that at some point, some part of you must have loved her, too. And you—well, your track record for this sort of thing isn't very good." She mirrored his frown, hoping that he would at least understand her point of view.
His eyes narrowed somewhat. "What do you mean? Addison—you instigated this."
She bit her lip, aiming to choose her next words very carefully. "I know, I guess I got caught up… and… Well, how many times have you slept with a woman who wasn't your wife? And how many times have you then left that woman, whether after a day or after six or seven years?"
He seemed to draw away from her somewhat as he said, "Addison, I've not always made the best of decisions, but this is what I've always wanted—a family, with you. Meredith doesn't even seem to love our son, and I've thought—if I've thought it once, I've thought it a hundred times—what if we had had children earlier? Would I have come to Seattle at all, or would we be living the dream together right now? She was a mistake, Addison, perhaps a bit of a mid-life crisis. But you … you could never be a mistake."
She wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or put-off by his words, so she tried to keep her face neutral as she said, "Derek, you know that I enjoyed this thoroughly. I think my vagina might have been a bit cobwebbed before," she tried to laugh, but it came out all wrong, so she redirected back to her point. "But it doesn't change the fact that you married her, and she had your child. You must feel something for her, and until you make it right with her and with James, too, this can't happen again."
She made to get out of the bed then, and Derek sat up, the seriousness of the situation between the two naked people probably laughable to an outsider. "Ad, she's in Darfur, will be for another five months. What else am I supposed to do? We've agreed that it's over."
She was beginning to feel frustrated; with herself, and with him. "Look," she said as she pulled on one of his old T-shirts (The Queers), "it doesn't matter what you do, just make it right. Then … maybe we'll talk."
And that was how Addison Adrienne Forbes Montgomery (formerly Shepherd) went from having the best sex she had possibly ever had, to turning it down in the name of not ruining Meredith Grey's life.
AN: Yay, Addek squee! Lol. Sort of. I didn't want to get too graphic or keep you here all day, which I totally would have done if I had depicted them doing the deed entirely. Haha. Your thoughts/complaints/suggestions/whatever else are like gold!