Chapter 46. Gone and Away

Addison makes a small contribution to the list Mark has scrawled out for Derek and Meredith to give them a general idea of what a day in the life for Henry looks like, including typical nap times, how often he eats, and how many ounces of Enfamil he generally consumes.Try to do 15 minutes of tummy time a day, Addison jots down. Mark tells her that was a good one. It's genuine – Addison knows he's not just trying to lift her spirits. If anything though, writing that suggestion makes her feel worse. It's unimaginative and she might as well have looped quotes around it and cited a parenting article. It doesn't mean anything. It's not the same as knowing if Henry cries real tears yet. If he likes being bathed as much as Kate did at this age. If he's focusing both eyes on objects.

This is your son. He was part of you once; and now he should be an external part of you. If you didn't spend so much time in bed and tried harder to bond with Henry, maybe you would fucking know these things, she thinks.

Addison quietly thanks Mark for making the list, as well as an additional one for Kate. And then, after forcing out a steadying breath, she climbs the stairs to the third floor.

She hovers in the doorway of Kate's room, watching as her daughter plays with her Maisonette dollhouse, chatting animatedly while guiding little figures around the rooms. A miniature mouse family, Frozen characters, and Barbie career dolls have all lived in the house at one point or another, but in the past few months, Kate's interest has shifted more towards just having a mommy, daddy, baby, and little girl figure as the only tenants. (No one knows where the original girl child who came in the family unit is. Kate swapped that figure out for a three inch, posable Princess Merida from Brave a long time ago. Merida is meant to be Kate in this situation, of course.)

"Hi, Kate," Addison greets in a hushed tone, feeling both shy and stupid.

Her daughter's back is to her and Kate does not turn around, but she does return the greeting. "Hi, Mommy."

"What are you doing?"

"Playing," Kate answers simply. "And being good."

Of course you're being good. You're always a good girl. You just happen to have a really bad mother.

"I…I just wanted to tell you that Meredith and Derek will be here in a little bit and then Daddy and I are going to get going. So I was hoping I could…" Addison walks into the room and sinks to the floor beside Kate. "Sweetie, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about the other night, when I yelled at you. I was being really mean, and – and you didn't do anything wrong. You're always a good girl. I'm just…right now I'm kind of sick. But that's not an excuse to be mean and -"

"Daddy said that you'll get better," Kate interrupts, eyes still trained forward. Her tone hovers between that of a statement and inquiry. Addison watches Kate's fingers as she nimbly sets the baby in the highchair, and then bends the daddy figure and Merida/Kate into chairs at the pink kitchen table. Addison doesn't see the mommy figure.

"Yeah. I will," she answers. "I'll get better, Kate." I guess. Logically, Addison knows medication and CBT will help, that this stubborn sadness is treatable and will not last forever, but right now, no. Pain defies logic. Life before she felt this way, life that was normal, just has no significance anymore. It feels too hard to embrace hope, to tip her face towards the sunlight, to let her husband – her kind, loving husband – take care of her. How could she do anything else but lie to the little girl next to her though? The girl who Addison loved before she even really knew her. The girl who believes in fairytales and wants so badly to learn to backhand a ground ball and knows that Mommy enjoys Madeline books as much as she does. Or did, at least.

"When you get better will you want to read again?"

God. How could I do this to her?

Addison swallows heavily. "If – if you want to read right now before it's time for me and Daddy to leave, we can do that, Kate. Or we can play with your dollhouse. I…I would love to play with you."

"I just want to play by myself," Kate says, but not unkindly. Her mother did not want her the other night. And now Kate does not want her mother.

Addison watches as her daughter turns her head further away, chin digging into her collarbone. She sees the twitch in Kate's jaw, and realizes Kate is trying not to cry, but mostly just trying to make sure her mommy can't see if she does start to cry. Did she learn that from me? Addison wonders. What else has she seen and learned from me in the past few weeks? She peaks back at the dollhouse one more time as she starts to rise to her feet. And she finds herself. Separated from the rest of the family. Oh.

Addison places a quick kiss to the top of Kate's head. "I love you, Kate."

"Love you too," Kate mumbles. Addison lingers for a moment, feeling a strip of light sweep through her heart at this. Just for a moment though. Kate is sitting perfectly still, as though Addison's touch was part of a game of freeze tag, one of Kate's favorites. She knows Kate intends to stay this way until she is no longer near her. So she quietly walks away.

-

Some sort of whisper debate is taking place outside their front door, and Addison actually does giggle upon hearing it. She texted Meredith earlier – Door is unlocked. Just come in when you get here. Realistically though, even when someone tells you just to enter your home without knocking, it still feels weird, so Addison gets it. She is the only one downstairs right now, so it is up to her to handle the entry. She grabs her cell phone off the coffee table and sends a text to both Derek and Meredith. Come in and turn left. I'm in the living room.

Addison thinks about standing when the couple comes into the house, but figures it is a waste of time to bother with formalities at this point. She takes in Derek and Meredith's appearances as they walk over to her – they have that rumpled, Seattle-ish look to them, but their hair is clean and they are nicely dressed, which is more than Addison can say for herself. She feels like greasy and puffy are the adjectives that best describe her appearance lately.

"Hi," Addison says, relieved when Derek and Meredith elect to remain on the other side of the coffee table. "It's nice to see you guys. I wish it were under better circumstances, but…I didn't know you were coming until this morning. I'm sorry for any trouble this has caused."

"No trouble at all," Derek answers. His voice is kind and he definitely presents as sympathetic, but Addison appreciates that he is not completely eyeballing her like she is a freak show participant in a season of American Horror Story. "We wish it was under better circumstances too, but we're glad to be here, and we're glad to be with your kids while you get some rest and -"

"Wait for the earth to abideth and the sun ariseth?" Addison quips. He looks surprised. She wants to tell Derek – like she told him so long ago – that much like Satan can have a sense of humor, so can depressed bitches.

Derek smirks. "You're not a Hemingway fan. I believe you once described my all-time favorite book as long-winded and self-indulgent."

"I stand by that."

The clopping sound of steps being descended is heard throughout the living room – and then the cleaning-landing thud when Kate skips the bottom two. She is over to Meredith in a flash, and Meredith kneels down and takes the forty pound hit with a surprising amount of grace.

"And who is this girl?" Meredith teases, leaning back to look at the petite redhead in front of her. "You are not Kate Sloan. Kate Sloan isn't this tall."

Kate giggles. "I am Kate Sloan. I just growed taller." She looks over at her mother. "Can I…can I take Mer and Derek upstairs and show them Henry? And show them my room?"

"Of course."

"You two go on up," Derek says, ruffling Kate's hair. "I'll be right there. I'm just going to say hi to your mom for a bit."

"That's how she talks to me now. And how she looks at me," Addison murmurs when it is just the two of them. Derek sits down beside her before responding.

"How?"

"She just…" Addison sighs. She doesn't know how to explain it. It's a look Kate gives her (when she feels comfortable making eye contact, that is) that encapsulates both dread and resignation. "I yelled at her two nights ago. I'm a parent and I have a strong-willed child – it is far from the first time I've raised my voice. But it's the first time I did it when nothing warranted it and…it's the first time it cracked her heart wide open. It's the first time I was cruel. I didn't recognize who I was when it was happening – nor did Kate. So just…while we're not here, if she wakes up at midnight and wants an ice cream sundae or something, don't feel like you have to tell her no. It's been a really hard few days for her. Well, for all of us, I guess."

"You're going to be okay, Addison. You're going to get better." Derek leans in and kisses the side of her head. "And we've got the kiddos in the meantime. We'll take good care of them."

She nods stiffly, and then holds her cell phone out. "Would you mind dropping this in the black bag over by the stairs? You should probably head up there."

-

"Hi," Meredith says, running into Mark on the landing area of the second floor. She gives him a one-armed hug, as her other hand is still wrapped tightly in one of Kate's.

"Daddy," Kate announces, looking the happiest Mark has seen her look in the past two days. "I'm going to show Meredith my room. And my Taylor Swift poster."

"That's great, kiddo. You can show her Henry's room too while you're up there. And Kate – I'm gonna talk with Derek really quick when he gets up here, so we should probably say goodbye now." Mark crouches and holds his arms out for a hug.

"I love you, Daddy," Kate says, tangling her arms around his neck.

"I love you, too. I'm going to miss you. Did you and Mommy get a chance to say goodbye?"

"Yeah," she says simply. Mark does not push the subject.

"Okay. And while Mommy and I are gone, I want you to have fun, but I also want you to listen Derek and Meredith. Deal?"

"Deal," Kate says, holding her knuckles out to him.

"Did you just do a fist bump explosion?" Derek says, coming up the stairs in time to see Mark open his palm and spread his fingers out, accompanied by some sort of obnoxious, rumbling noise.

"Yes. And I have zero regrets about that. Hey." Mark holds his hand out. They shake, and then do an informal, mostly not-awkward man hug. "Thank you for – for coming."

"Yeah, of course. So I already saw the older one – not that she's really that thrilled to see me, since I'm not Meredith Grey – but where's the little one at?"

"Right in here," Mark gestures for Derek to follow him into the master bedroom. Henry is currently on the bed, clad in a dinosaur-patterned romper Kate picked out, with a plush rattle in hand. He has reached the point where if they put toys of a certain size in his hand, he can hold onto them. "This is your godson."

"This is my godson," Derek repeats. He reaches a hand out and lightly wiggles Henry's foot. "Hello there, handsome man. Wow. Kate is pretty much pure Addison, but this one is kind of a blend of both you guys."

Mark hands Derek a spare house key, and the schedule for Henry he wrote out, assuring him it's really just a general idea of what the average day looks like, because there are definitely times the little guy has his own agenda. He then shows him a much neater, nicer copy of some basic information – their pediatrician's contact number, the location of the first aid supplies, and so on – that Addison typed up for Lauren a long time ago.

"Let's see, what else…oh, Kate's bedtime is 8:30 on weekdays. Tonight you can just put her to bed whenever you get tired of her. She'll clue you in on her bedtime routine. And I know you and Sav will go over it in more detail tomorrow, but Lauren can handle school pick-ups and drop offs, unless you want to – Kate's school is just three blocks from here. We usually get her up by 6:30. School starts at eight. And I wrote it down, but she knows the things she's supposed to do every day – brush her teeth, do a half-ass job making her bed…things like that. And she doesn't have any after school activities at the moment, but tee-ball practices start near the end of the month, so feel free to throw the ball around with her. She'll probably ask you to. And the tee is in the backyard, if you want to take her to the Great Lawn."

"Okay," Derek says. He scans the lists while cuddling Henry in a shoulder hold. And then Derek nods when Meredith reappears. She reports that Kate is still playing in her room; by some miracle Meredith was able to convince Kate to hang by herself for a minute or two so that she can talk with the grownups.

"I guess that's mostly it. Bottles and formula are on the kitchen counter. And actually, Kate knows how to make bottles, so if you want to have her do that, she can. We should probably hit the road, but Kate can give you a tour of the place – she'll love that. And she knows where pretty much everything is, but you can call me or Sav if you have any questions." Mark makes a vague gesture with his hand around the bedroom. "Henry's bassinet is here, and there's one in the living room as well. Feel free to move them wherever you want though. The guest room down the hall isn't set up yet, so you'll have to sleep in the master, but, um. I put on a fresh set of sheets this morning and the comforter was just washed. I, uh, I don't know if it's weird -"

"You're gonna make it weird if you keep talking to me and my wife about the marital bed you share with my ex-wife," Derek quickly interrupts. The former dirty mistresses both offer a strained smile.

"Yeah, you're right," Mark says. He lightly touches the back of Henry's fuzzy head. "And, just so you know…Addison doesn't want to go to Cape Cod. It might take a few minutes to get her out to the car. And it might not be a pretty scene."

Meredith speaks first. She had an unstable childhood. Calmness in a crisis is a strong point for her. "What do you want us to do?"

"Maybe just…maybe just wait up here until we're gone? I don't know if -"

"We'll wait then. We'll go up to Kate's room and make sure she stays with us," Meredith says. "Just text Derek when you get in the car. And…hang in there. She'll get through this, Mark."

-

She will get through this. And you will help her get through this, Mark tells himself as he pushes the trunk closed. The last bag has been packed. He glances up at the afternoon sky. Bleak and swirled with gray. If they leave now, they should get to the beach house around five-thirty. He walks back up the steps to their front door, reminding himself to grab a coat for Addison from the entryway closet. He conjures the image of her sitting in the living room while he was loading up the car. Navy-colored Uggs. Leggings or yoga pants – he isn't sure of the difference. And a loose-fitting sweater. No coat though.

Mark opens the front door, eyes immediately honing in on the sofa, but Addison isn't there. Only a bunched-up chenille throw remains in her absence. And then he hears the slight rasp of movement on the staircase. There. Shit. There is Addison. Four steps up. Fingers clenched tightly around two wooden balusters.

"Addie…" he whispers, much too low for her to hear though. She is staring down at her knees and trying to make herself as small as possible, but she must have at least heard Mark reenter the house. She won't look up though.

This is not the first time Addison has crouched on the stairs and refused to let go. She didn't want to leave the first time, either. Mark thinks of his best friend, and part of him wants to strangle Derek. But only a part, because the man who threw Addison out in the rain that night is currently upstairs caring for his son and daughter. Derek dropped everything to be here. And that night – that was then. Their worlds fell apart. They all made mistakes, both in actions and reactions. Trauma often transforms people. It did that night. But they got out of it. They got through it. And Mark thinks maybe the now they are living in isn't so far removed from the way in which they muddled through everything after he and Addison were caught in bed together. Addison's world has now fallen apart again. It wasn't the end last time though. And he won't let it be the end this time, either.

Go slow. Do not scare her.

"Addison." Mark shuts the front door, speaking a little louder as he moves to the foot of the stairs. Tears are inching down her cheeks. "I'm going to come sit next to you. That's all. If I'm inside, you're inside. I'm not going to force you out the door."

Addison nods. She already knew this, but her throat feels too overpoweringly tight to say it. She knows. She just doesn't want to leave. Leaving makes it real.

"We are going to go to Cape Cod though…" Mark takes a seat beside her. "But if you need a few more minutes, that's okay. I'll wait here until you're ready."

"I'll try…try…"

"Try what, honey?"

"H-harder," she weeps quietly. "I'll try harder. I promise I'll try harder."

"Hey. Can you look at me for a sec? Please?" Mark gently sets a hand on her knee. Addison doesn't flinch, which surprises him. And then she does crane her neck towards him to meet his eyes. "Addison, you are trying. You're trying your absolute hardest right now. You're an incredible mother and you're an incredible wife, but right now you're sick." She looks away, embarrassed. "And that's not your fault. Us leaving here…this isn't me being punitive. I'm proud of you for doing the best you can, but this isn't really working. You see that, right? Let's try Cape Cod, just for a few days…it's a change of scenery and the chance for you to get a bit more rest. We'll come back. This isn't forever."

"O-okay," she hiccups. "Okay."

"Okay," Mark repeats. "I'm not going to pull you down the stairs or make you stand up. We'll go when you're ready." He takes his hand off her knee and sets it between them, the heel flush to the edge of the step. "Maybe just touch my hand if you need a little help getting up."

Mark waits. His cell phone is already in the car, and his Bulova watch – a gift from his wife six Christmases ago, when Postpartum depression was something other women unfortunately experienced, not her – is somewhere upstairs. He guesses how much time has passed though. Probably two minutes. Now three.

And then Addison gingerly sets her hand on top of his.

They both take a deep breath.