In My Blood
Chapter 17
Authors Note: If you do not like that Addison has a daughter in this story, please, read other stories where she has a son. I have a story where she is pregnant with a little boy (Don't Hold Me) and a story where she has a son called Emmerson. (Room). There are also hundreds to choose from on this platform. In My blood was started and posted almost 2 years ago, and the gender of these children were chosen way before it became an obsession of people in this community to give Addison a son. I will not be changing the genders of already established characters, but there are boys in the above other stories of mine :)
MEREDITH's POV:
"Oakley's sleeping again." I inform Addison, before dropping down onto the couch beside her, noticing that the bottle of Gin is over halfway gone, , she has tearstains on her cheeks, deep scratches, what look like fresh fingernail scratches on the inside of her bare arms. "Oh Addison." I whisper, she doesn't respond, just stares blankly at the door Mark walked out, pausing in her shock-ness only to take another drink from the bottle.
"He left me…." She finally says after what seems like an eternity later. "I was going to leave him, but then he left me."
"I know." I say, trying to sound soothing, but not really succeeding. If we're honest I am surprised it took this long. I get her medical bag from the closet and clean the scratches on her arms. She doesn't protest, just lets her arms lay limp, dead weight as I clean the wounds and then wrap them. It isn't a serious cut, it's not an emergency, but she broke the skin deeply in several places, is bleeding, and honestly fingernails have got to be just about the dirtiest thing she could have chosen to scratch herself with. I cringe thinking of all the gunk and bacteria under the average persons nails. I think painfully of the days she would sit starring out that window, unresponsive, dead to the world around her. I blink my eyes several times quickly trying to think of something else, anything else. This isn't THAT bad. She's going to be fine. A tiny voice screams in the back of my mind. 'unless the love of her life leaving her is the straw that finally breaks the camels back.' I try and silence it. She is strong. She will be OK.
"I need you to take the baby." She says, when I am done. Despite the intoxicating level of alcohol in her system she sounds one hundred percent sober in her request. I study her, trying to gauge how much of this is her talking, and how much was the alcohol.
"I can take her, but Addison why?" I ask, and she buries her face in the couch pillow, for a second, I think that she is trying to suffocate herself, but then I realize she is sobbing. I move closer to her, rubbing her back, soothing. When she calms down, she looks at me, and I see a familiar look of emptiness and despair in her eyes.
"I'm scared." She says, finishing off the bottle and dropping it to the floor, not even caring. "I don't want to hurt her Meredith."
"Do you think you will hurt her?"
"I don't want to." She says, looking down, ashamed, resting her head in her hands. "But…I need help." She whispers, she is crying, and I know she is serious. She must be out of her mind with grief and terror right now if this is even a thought on her mind. I am sure she would never hurt a child normally, but under this deep of a depression, with Oakley's colicky behavior, I almost do not hear the next thing she whispers.
*Addison's POV*
"Suffocation is indistinguishable from SIDS in a three-month-old infant, and it terrifies me that I know that." I don't know why I tell her this. I don't even know why I stayed. I could have just left that day in the hospital, signed my rights over to Mark and left. Everyone would have been better off if that was what I had done. Everyone would have been better off if I had gone through with the abortion, I wanted from the beginning instead of agreeing to carry this baby to term for Mark. Everyone would be better off if I just disappeared and stopped complicating everyone's lives. Especially Oakley. She deserves to be with someone who can love her.
"How long have you been feeling this way?" She asks me noticeably shivering at my words. I need more alcohol. That would mean a trip to the store. No. Just No. I try to think of the proper answer to her question. When had I woken up from the drug induced haze and agreed under pressure, to carry the baby to term? My memory of that time is still so foggy, but there was a time before, was it a dream? I remember sitting on the edge of a bathtub full of pregnancy tests, shortly after Heavenly's funeral. Feeling like my life was going to end as I dunked one after another after another into the cup of pee, waited for the result, and then throwing them angerly into the bathtub, pouring the pee out, and rinsing the cup, and then filling it back up again the next time I needed to pee, as if I could somehow get a different result with a different batch.
"Since the beginning." I say, feeling the lump forming in my throat. You can do a thing for all the right reasons, and it still not be the right thing.
"Then why did you have the baby if you knew from that early on?" She asks, like the question she asked me so very long ago. In the hospital, but I have a better understanding of my reasonings now.
"Mark wanted to keep the baby, and I wanted to keep Mark." I admit, shrugging. "After Heavenly's death I would have agreed to anything, I didn't think giving him the baby he so desperately wanted would affect me like it did. I made a mistake. People make mistakes Meredith."
"You're killing yourself Addison; you can see that right?" Meredith asks.
"It doesn't really matter much NOW does it? He has his child. He has his girlfriend. He's moved on."
"Addison…." She pleas, her voice pained.
"I want to die." I say….my voice sounds like something not my own calm, clear, like a realization.
"We need to call Mark, you need help and if he knew how bad this truly is…."
"After what he did? That's a huge NO. Meredith it is clear he doesn't care, I know he wouldn't even answer our calls and YOU know he's probably off with that girl." I push my lips together hard, while pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, trying not to cry at the thought of him running to her. If only I had…. I don't even know. Been better. Maybe he wouldn't have cheated. It sounds so reasonable in my mind. This is my fault. I'm not good enough for him. My grief for Heavenly a wedge that allowed this mystery woman into our lives.
"Well we need to call somebody."
"There is nobody."
"You need help." She protests. "I'll always be your best friend, you can talk to me about anything, but I'm scared for you, and I am worried because it sounds like what you're saying is you are so deep into your grief that suicide seems like the only option to escape that darkness."
"I'm sorry, I'm fine. I shouldn't have said that, shouldn't have drug you into this whole mess." I automatically apologize, thinking maybe she'll think I'm just overreacting, and forget I said anything. Unlikely at best. I shouldn't have said anything, about any of this. I will never get rid of her now. The urge to cut is suddenly so strong that I tremble, trying to resist it. I shouldn't have said anything. I always screw everything up. She knows me too well… words don't have to be spoken, but I was doing fine, at pretending everything was fine when she was around, or was that just because Willow was also around? I was fine until I wasn't anymore.
"OK, but one, you're not fine, and two, I'm not sorry. This is your reality, it's your truth, but there is nothing written in stone saying that this path to be your future too."
I just shrug non- committedly, and Meredith says something about needing to call Derek and let him know she's staying, and that when she comes home, she will be bringing the baby with her, or perhaps seeing if he can pick her up once the nanny comes and takes Willow to her ballet lesson. I protest that she needs to just go, take Oakley and go spend the rest of the day with her family. How often does she and Derek have the day off at the same time anymore? At least he is home by six most nights with his new schedule. She says 'no.' and 'it's not up for discussion Addison.'. Before continuing her conversation with Derek, and I go back to looking at the door numbly. She doesn't tell him exactly what's going on, just 'Addison needs me. We'll talk about it when I get home.' She tells him to give Willow a hug and a kiss for her, and then hangs up.
"Derek is going to come get Oakley, in around an hour. He'll look after her until I get back home."
"You don't have to stay."
"Yes, I do."
"Just because I want to die doesn't mean I am going to die Meredith."
"Your track record, keeping your word that you won't hurt yourself, isn't great." She responds.
"I need to take a shower." I say, "Put on some clean clothes and, at least wash my hair."
"What? Why?"
"I don't want Derek to see … I don't want him to know how bad things are…." I don't know why I care. Maybe I just don't want him running his mouth to Mark about what a disaster I am. I know they talk. "I also don't want Mark to know that you'll have Oakley. I will give you the money to pay whatever extra to compensate your nanny wants for caring for her."
"Addison…"
"He is not a Father Meredith. He heard you say I am suicidal earlier, and still he leaves this baby, I never wanted, with me. That's not what a father does. If he really wanted her, he should have taken her with him." I say, talking about Oakley like she was an abandoned puppy or something.
"Do you really think she's safer in a hotel room, with Mark's girlfriend than with her own mother? Do you really want someone like that holding your baby?" She asks, and I shrug, not sure that I really care at this point.
"I'm not her mother Meredith." I say, and she sighs, Oakley begins crying again, and I curl up as tightly as I can on the couch, blocking my ears with my hands…. The tears start, and I can't stop them. I just want to be normal again. I want my life to go back to what it was before Heavenly died. I want to be a family again, but clearly that will never happen. I should want to get up, I should want to care for her, but I can't make myself do it. Her screaming does something odd to my brain. Like fingernails on a chalkboard. It makes me want to… I don't even know. I just want to run, to escape this hell that I am living in. Meredith gets her, and to my dismay brings her downstairs, "Someone is hungry, again aren't you?" She coos, and Oakley gurgles up at her. She asks if I want to feed her, I say no. I don't want to be anywhere near her, but even if I did, the alcohol in my system would be too great to safely nurse her. She gets a milk bottle from the kitchen and warms it before coming back to the living room.
"You are her mother Addison." She says gently. "Even if you convince yourself otherwise, she is not just going to go away. You carried her for 32 weeks. You almost died several times to get her to this earth safely. You advocated for her when you went into pre-term labor, and they were going to deliver her, too early, too young. You let someone know when you're too overwhelmed, and got help instead of hurting her, or yourself. That is what a mother does." Oakley suckles at the bottle, drinking it down and then smiling up at Meredith. I give her a look of pure loathing.
Derek rings the doorbell then; I realize I still look a mess. Maybe Meredith will convince him to leave this between us, to not talk to Meredith about it. Meredith stands up still holding little Oakley and lets him in. My wrapped arms are exposed, I wish I would have put on a long sleeve top. I look wearily to the stairs, knowing I don't have the strength to climb them again.
"Her pack and play is in the corner, and I packed her a bag." She says, pointing to the corner, where I hadn't even noticed she had Oakley's bag we bought her to take her things home from the hospital in, and her pack and play that I had intended to set up in the Livingroom, with the bassinet attachment, but never got around to it. She must have grabbed them when she was tending to Oakley. I hadn't even realized she was gone that long.
"What happened?" Derek asks, looking at me suspiciously, worried that there is more going on than we're saying.
"I'm fine." I say automatically. He looks at Meredith, who shakes her head slightly, distracting him by handing him Oakley to burp, saying something about 'This little princess wants her uncle Derek, yes she does! Don't you Oakley?' She goes to the kitchen, and takes out two weeks' worth or expressed milk, putting it in one of those re-usable grocery cooler bags. She adds two bottles from the cabinet, and then comes back.
"She will be fine." Derek says. "Willow will be happy to have a new little friend to play with."
"Thank you, Derek, really."
"Do you want to give her a snuggle before we go?" He asks, and I pause for a minute, not sure.
"Yeah." I whisper, but it takes a minute before I can move. "I'll put her in her travel system for you." I take him from her, I hold her close for a minute before she realizes that it's me and starts to cry, her bottom lip trembling. It's been two months since she came home from the NICU and she still wants nothing to do with me, anyone but me. I've traumatized her beyond repair. I buckle her in her car seat, and make sure that Derek knows where her travel system is so he can carry it out with her. I know he probably walked over. We live so close, driving isn't practical.
I kneel on the ground next to Oakley's car seat. "You're going to be OK." But she just screams, and I bite down on my lip hard enough to cause it to bleed. "Uncle Derek is going to take care of you, you are safe, everything is OK." I say, trying to make my voice as gentle as I can, but she screams harder, and I just shake my head. Derek and Meredith are watching me as I stand up slowly.
"I can't…. I just can't. Take her." I say putting my hands up in defeat, tears. There are so many tears lately. I am not even sure why I agreed to hold her. I guess I thought maybe I could say goodbye without her realizing it was me, of course that would have not worked unless she was sleeping. She hates me, and I can't say I blame her. I hate me too.
While Meredith is giving Derek strict instructions not to call Mark, or let him know they have Oakley, as well as instructions on how often to feed her change her, and helping him to carry the pack and play, her bag, and her travel system down the brownstone stairs I sneak off to the downstairs bathroom. I sit in the shower, not moving, not turning the water on, but just sitting perfectly still. The silence has never been so loud. I rest my head on my knees. Nothing I do is right. I move my hand to my arm, instinctively to scratch, but forgetting that they are wrapped. Looking around for something else to do, finding nothing. When I locked myself in the bathroom, on that very first day home, Mark had taken all of the locks off all of the doors, minus the front and back doors for obvious reasons. He had also made sure that there were no razors or sharp objects in the downstairs bathroom, and everything in the upstairs bathroom was in a locked container under the sink. The key is on a chain around his neck that he wears to work with him. There is no back up key. There is a similar box that holds all the sharps, and medications in the kitchen. Like a child, I can't be trusted. He didn't leave the key when he left. Not that it matters.
"Oakley is OK." Meredith says, coming into the bathroom, and sitting down on the floor beside me. "Derek will take good care of her, you don't have to worry."
"I'm not worried." I murmur.
"You'll feel better soon, and Oakley will be waiting for you when you are." She assures me, and I just look at her, unconvinced. "You did the right thing Addison, Oakley is safe, and she can stay with us for as long as you need."
"Nothing I do is ever the 'right thing.'"
Authors Note:
Thank you everyone for reading! Please review! Mark comes back in the next chapter. Which I am already working on. This story has just been stuck in my head more than the others for the last little while. I think that Addison is just upset, confused, angry.
