Chapter 47. Please Just Save Me From This Darkness

"I brought a water for you." Mark gestures to the bottle in one of the center cup holders as he settles into the driver's seat. "There's some snack stuff in the mini cooler behind my seat, and the things Savvy grabbed for us at the store to get us through the night and tomorrow morning. I…I wasn't sure when you'd last eaten."

I'm not sure either, she thinks. Dry cereal…was that this morning? Or last night?

"Thank you," Addison replies softly. "Oh, it's okay…" she waves at Mark's hand, anticipating his next move when he starts the car and a sports radio station comes on. "Leave it. You can listen to the game. I…I kind of want to hear it." It's an odd statement, coming from her. Addison does not really follow professional basketball (baseball a little for the sake of Mark and Kate, and she knows a decent amount about football and tennis…the football part always surprises people). But hearing measured dialogue covering an NBA game sounds more appealing than music at the moment. And it fills the silence, of course.

Mark chuckles at this. "No one actually wants to hear about the Knicks, but sure. Just another very painful 'rebuilding season.'"

"I think the Knicks and I have that in common at the moment." Addison is staring out the front windshield, but she does reveal a closed-mouthed smile at this self-assessment. A small smile. But still, Mark thinks. It's a smile.

"I'm just gonna text Derek really quick and let him know we're in the car and then we can…" he pauses to finish the message and send it off. "Addison?" Mark waits until she looks over at him. "I know that…I know I didn't really give you a choice about leaving, but I'm glad you got in the car. And if you want to talk – I'm here and I'm listening."

"Okay," she whispers. "In…in a little bit."

-

"Mattapoisett. That was our spot, right?" Mark asks, glancing over at Addison before refocusing on the stretch of US 6 in front of them. They hit traffic in a few predictable spots along the trek, and they still have a week to go before Daylight Savings Time comes along and pushes them even further into fatigue, so it will likely be dark by the time they get to the beach house. "That was usually around where you would bring up me proposing to you."

Addison is awake now. She has slept on and off throughout the trip. And in the rare moments she is awake, it has been quiet. Nothing but the scraping of uneven road beneath them and a calming, low-volume Spotify playlist Mark put on when the signal from the previous station was starting to weaken.

"Except for the one time I didn't bring it up…and then you actually did propose," Addison replies with a light grin, and then peers out the passenger window, trying to pick out their surroundings. She has mostly been sleeping (she cannot tell if she is sleepy just because she is sleepy or if the Zoloft is making her sleepier), but even when she is awake, sometimes she sees without really seeing. Addison cannot really explain it; she just knows it is not the same as zoning out. "Did we already…?"

"We passed it a while ago. You were sleeping. We're about thirty minutes out. But for the past few minutes, I can tell that you've been staring at me, so I thought I'd bring up something easy. Because usually when you're looking at me like that, it's because you want to tell me something…but you aren't sure how."

Addison fiddles nervously with her hands, fingers twisting over and around one another. "Which is basically my MO lately. I don't really…I don't know where to start."

"Start anywhere. It doesn't even have to be…we could talk about anything. How you're feeling. March Madness predictions. Area 51. Your analysis of folklore. Celebrity gossip," Mark says, and she lets out a small laugh. "Try, Addison." His voice is gentler this time.

She takes a calming breath first. "Meredith is pregnant."

"Wow, really? They didn't…she told you that?" Mark thinks back to when he, Derek, and Meredith were talking. It must be early then, because Meredith definitely did not look visibly pregnant.

"No. I can just tell. And I can't imagine…I can't imagine how awful…" Addison lets out a rickety breath. "I hope she didn't look at me and just think that this is her future. It's like seeing a train wreck ahead of your own train wreck."

He shakes his head. "She wouldn't have come if she didn't feel up to it, Addie. I'm sure she knows the odds and statistics on this kind of thing. Just like you do. And she's tough – also like you."

"I don't…I don't hate you, Mark. I felt horrible as soon as I said that the other day. I was just…I was angry. And embarrassed. It was about me. I really just hate myself for this."

"It's not your fault, Addison."

Everything about this is my fault, she reflects bitterly. She doesn't pull away though when Mark reaches for one of her hands. She has resisted physical affection for so long, but she can feel her resolve weakening. It is becoming too excruciating and scary to try to shoulder this sadness alone.

"I know I've been…well," she begins, voice shaking. Try. Just try. Tell him you need him. "About the hug you offered earlier. Is that still available later?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Can it be a long hug?"

"Yeah. As long as you want. Addie…do you want me to pull over?" Mark can tell in her pitch and by the look in her shimmery blue eyes that she is closer to losing control. She is fighting hard, and she has been fighting hard for weeks, but there was never any chance she could keep it up forever. Addison is strong. But she is also human. "I can get off at the next exit if you need me to. If you don't want to wait for a hug. I don't mind."

Addison shakes her head, feeling her throat tighten. "N-no. We're only like a half hour away. I can…I can hang in there."

"Okay. Well how about you just keeping hold my hand…" Mark squeezes her fingers a bit tighter. "And close your eyes and focus on taking slow breaths."

-

Mark can see her in his peripheral vision. She is starting to get worked up, arms and shoulders trembling as she breathes in tiny, broken gasps. "We're right around the corner, Addison. Two more minutes." He pulls his hand out of hers and presses his palm against her upper back. "Try to stay calm."

"You'll give me a h-hug?" She chokes out, starting to cry.

"Yeah, I'm gonna give you a hug, Red. I'll pull into the garage and I'll come around and get your door for you."

There is an awful part of Mark that feels relieved this is happening. Finally. Addison finally wants a tangible form of comfort after weeks of shutting him out and shrugging off most physical contact. She has battled against this for so long though. There is no way the crash will not be devastating.

"Here we go," Mark says for her benefit, removing his hand from her back to push the button on the garage door remote opener clipped to the visor. He presses it again once they're inside and he's cut the engine. "Okay. I'm coming around. Two seconds."

Addison's cries rise in pitch in the short time it takes Mark to get from one side of the car to the other. He opens the door and a sound of anguish rises from deep inside Addison, landing somewhere between a yelp and a scream. She strains forward hard, trying to get out and into Mark's arms, but she has skipped the important step of unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Stop, stop, stop," Mark says, repeating the command so swiftly it sounds like one long word. He knows Addison is not really hearing him though. She manages to get her hands on Mark's shoulders, but continues to desperately pump forward with her hips. Mark guides a hand around her waist, struggling at first to unbuckle the seatbelt due to how much she is moving. He worries about the incision she is undoubtedly aggravating from where the seatbelt is digging into her skin. "You're going to hurt yourself. I'm getting it. Okay…there we go."

"Mark…"

"I've got you," he murmurs when Addison half-falls into his embrace. He helps her stand up, and nudges the passenger door shut behind them. "Let me help you inside."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Addison cries into his shoulder as Mark works on getting the garage-entry door unlocked, trying to support her while she leans against him. He can feel her tears wetting his shirt.

"Don't be sorry, Addie. It's not your fault." His heart aches for her as she gulps for air. Got it. The lock catches and he pushes the door open, helping a now-absolutely-bawling Addison inside. He says a silent thank you that the housecleaning service they have come once a month was able to make an additional visit this morning when he called to ask, and that they were able to leave some of the lights on and fiddle with the heater to ensure warmth is already spreading throughout the home.

"But I've…I've been…" Addison stammers while Mark guides her to the couch. She is not really sure if he pulls her into his lap or if she just collapses on top of him once he's sitting. "I've been so horrible to you and the kids. Mark, I'm really -"

"Stop. This isn't your fault," he says. "No apologies. That's not what I want."

"Then what…what do -"

"I just want you to get better." Mark reaches behind him, gathering a throw blanket lazily drooped over the back of the couch. "That's all I want. But I need you to let me in, Addison. You've started talking and I'm so proud of you for that. You need to keep doing it though. Please let me take care of you."

Addison nods weakly, sniffling while he wraps her in the blanket and helps her kick off her boots.

She manages a short, choppy laugh in between cries. "You're swaddling me," she says. Just like you do for our son. And like I don't do.

"A little bit," Mark grins weakly. "I know that's not entirely why you're shaking, but I want you to be warm. I can bump the heat up more if you want."

Addison shakes her head against his chest. "I'm okay," she says. And then she can feel the words she has been pushing down for so long start to break the surface. She leans back from Mark a bit, sitting up just enough that she can look him full in the face. "Except…except…"

"Except what?"

"I'm not okay," she whimpers.

"I know. I know you're not." The declaration is enough to make his own eyes fill with moisture. Mark lightly cups her cheek with his palm, voice heavy with emotion. "But you will be. Honey, I promise you will be. You're going to get through this. We're just going to take it one day at a time."

"Please d-don't let go."

"I won't," Mark assures. He slides his hand off her face to give her shoulder a light squeeze as reassurance. "I'm here. I've got you."

Addison shakes her head frantically. "No. Th-that's not what I mean." She reaches out and curls her fingers around his shirt, clutching urgently at the fabric as more panicky tears tumble down her cheeks. "I mean us. I know that I've been…I've been so…I won't shut you out anymore, Mark. Just please don't let go of me – of us."

"Oh, Addie. Hey, listen to me. I'm not letting you go. Ever. Get in here." Mark hugs her against him, cradling the back of her head as she sighs with relief. "I'm yours, okay? I love you and I'm never leaving you. So put that worry out of your head now."

She nods shakily. "Okay…okay…"

"I know our firstborn was loud and obnoxious when we exchanged wedding vows, but I swear I was listening during the part about 'in sickness and in health,' and I know you were, too. This is the sickness part."

"My firstborn who hates me."

"Addison -"

"She should hate me. I made Kate cry and think I don't love her anymore." Addison hiccups and rubs at her eyes. "I've been the worst mother ever. And my son is just over a month old and probably has no idea who I am because I try to stay away from him. I carried Henry for nine months, but I'm so afraid to hold him and take care of him."

"It's alright," Mark assures gently. "The important thing is that his life is just getting started. He knows who you are, Addison. He does. And he's going to see what a great mom you are when you're ready to spend more time with him. But you are not a bad mother. You're just…not yourself right now. And Kate loves you, too. She loves you, Addison. This is a hard thing for her to grasp, but she loves you."

"I'm so s-scared."

"Don't be. You're gonna get through this."

Addison starts crying harder. "And I'm really sorry, Mark. About all of this. About everything."

"There isn't anything you could have done to have stopped this from happening. Don't apologize for this. We can't prevent something we don't know is coming. But for right now, just rest for a few minutes, honey," Mark runs his thumb pointedly over her radial artery. "Let's get that heart rate to slow a little bit." Addison nods wearily and closes her eyes, losing herself in the feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath her slumped body.

Mark holds her tightly and alternates between usual forms of comfort when she is like this: rubbing soft patterns on her back, stroking her hair, and wiping away her tears when the pile-up starts getting to be too much on her cheeks. "Like this" though, he realizes, is an inaccurate way to put it. There is no like this. This is new. Tears because Addison is upset or hormonal or stressed or lost a loved one – those are standard reasons to cry, not unusual. The forceful cries leaving her body now though are broken and sad, yes, but they are also crushingly angry and remorseful. This is new. Mark knows Addison feels frustrated this is happening to her. The heartache just keeps spinning all around her, and guilt has become a symptom that takes up a lot of space on the carousel she cannot seem to get off of.

Addison eventually starts to settle down, but Mark can still hear tiny sounds rising from her, breaths puffing against his chest as her lips continue to move.

"Addison? Are you mumbling 'sorry' over and over again under your breath?"

"…yeah."

"Okay. Well, maybe…don't," Mark murmurs, and she almost giggles, but the sound gets trapped in her throat and transitions into a sad, tired mewl.

"It h-hurts…"

"Did you irritate your incision when you were trying to get out of the car?" Mark asks, gingerly folding down the front material of her leggings. Addison does not protest when he inspects the curved scarlet line stretching across her lower abdomen. She hates the scar, but she is too tired to push Mark's hand away or feel self-conscious about it at the moment. The scar is ugly though, and it serves as a reminder of all the ways in which Addison has failed and is continuing to fail her son.

"No. Just, you know." She lightly taps her temple. "Here. In here."

Mark nods. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I know. And, Addison, I'm so sorry for how much pain you're in. Pain that isn't your fault, before you apologize again. But you're going to get better. Just not overnight."

"The medication might not work for weeks, if this particular one even works at all." She shakes her head, hiccuping nervously. "I'm lost and I'm just going to keep being lost. And the…the kids. We can't be away from the kids for -"

"Hey. Just a week here. I promise. A week at the most. Look, I know realistically when we leave here that you're still going to be hurting. I know it's not a swallow me and everything is all better thing. This is just meant to give you a little break. That's all."

Her sobs transform into a small laugh. "You heard that, right? 'Swallow me and everything is all better?'"

"I heard it as soon as it was leaving my mouth, but I couldn't stop. At least it got a little laugh out of you," Mark grins while running a hand through her hair. "I know it's mostly been self-deprecating, but you've managed a few laughs and smiles today. That's good, Addison. And that feeling of being lost – you're going to find yourself again. You'll find your way back. Just know that you're not alone."

"I'm feeling…I'm feeling a little calmer right now. For right now, at least."

Mark nods. "Good. Maybe we should…well, I know you haven't had much of an appetite lately, but you should probably try to eat something before we go to bed."

"No, I haven't really…you're probably starving though."

"A little bit," he confirms. "I can make us something. And I'll bring our stuff in after we eat. You just stay here and rest."

"If you help me unload the car and get everything upstairs, I can unpack while you make dinner." Addison shakes her head when he starts to protest. "It's fine, Mark. I can't expect everything of myself right now, but I can do little things. I can unpack. I don't want to be in bed or on the couch all day. I mean, I do want to just be in bed all day, but that's not going to be how I get better, so. I can do it. I want to do this."

"Okay. Let's go grab the stuff," Mark says. Get better. I can. I want to. He realizes it has been a while since he has heard any of those.

-

They retire to the bedroom after a light dinner. Just a few bites of a crust-less peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Addison, and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Mark. Mark was so hungry he honestly could have probably eaten a third, but he stopped at two because Addison looked so tired that she was possibly in danger of falling asleep at the table. They both get ready for bed, even though it is not even eight yet. Addison tells Mark that he should feel free to leave the TV on if he wants to watch something while she sleeps, but he says he is tired too, and is fine with just going to sleep.

"You should be tired," Addison decides when he turns down her side of the bed. "Given that you've been doing all the caretaking and -"

"Addison," he murmurs, and she lets the start of the apology fade away. "Oh, hey – while I was making our sandwiches, Derek texted me a few pictures of the kids. Do you want to see them? They look like they're having a good time."

Addison curls her lips together as she gets under the comforter. "I'll…I'll look at them tomorrow morning. I think right now…I think it would make me too sad. Not that I'm not already sad, but…I don't think it's a good idea. I'm glad it seems like they're having a good time though. Can we FaceTime with them tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course. Addison…" Mark gets in on his side of the bed, propped on an elbow. "Can I hold you while you sleep?"

He says it so kindly, so earnestly, that Addison's eyes fill with tears, and all she wants to do is apologize. Again and again and again. Knowing Mark will shush her though, she just nods instead, stretching her arms out for him, and smiling gratefully when he scoots closer and cuddles her against him. Addison goes quiet for a minute, letting his hand soothe over her back while she tries to sort out the words tangled in her head.

"I wouldn't…" Addison murmurs into his neck, feeling anxious. "At first, I had to sleep between the pillows because I was terrified of rolling onto my side and putting pressure on my incision. The side works for some women, but I tried it a few times that first week, and it hurt too much. But after a while I kept going with the pillow island because I didn't…well, for a lot of reasons that had everything to do with me and nothing to do with you, but mostly I just didn't want to cry in front of you. About this."

"Why?"

"Because I knew if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop, especially if you were holding me. And I wanted…I knew you'd be nothing but understanding and you would want to take care of me. And I just…" she shrugs helplessly. "I don't know how to explain it. I just couldn't."

Mark brushes a kiss against her hairline. "Well, now you've started, and you can cry as much as you need to. You can't hold it in – it's not good for you. Did you, like…want me to be mad at you, Addison? To like resent you or something?"

"Yes," she admits.

"Well, I'm not mad at you. And I don't resent you. None of this is your fault. This is a medical condition – it's not the result of anything you did or didn't do. It's basically post-birth, shitty Russian Roulette. And you got the depression bullet. So no more saying sorry."

"You know I'm probably going to keep saying it anyway," Addison murmurs, rolling onto her other side. The backrub feels nice, but she would rather just have Mark hold her tightly tonight. She sighs sleepily when he wraps his arm back over her, keeping her close.

"I know you will. But for now, let's try to get some sleep. You're exhausted." He briefly presses his lips to her neck. "I love you, Addison."

Addison blinks tiredly and she can feel herself tumbling fast towards slumber, but she forces herself to share more than the token response. "I love you, too. I know I haven't said it much lately, but I do love you, Mark. So much."

"I…I know," Mark says as relief floods through his heart. "Wake me if you need anything. I'm here for you." He is certain Addison is asleep though before she even registers this offer.

I'm here, he thinks. And she is here. We are going to find our way through this.

-