A/N: So, since there is a reference to Meredith being pregnant both in this chapter and the previous one, quick note: the original MTGOF was finished before Meredith/Derek adopted Zola (and of course before Bailey and Ellis came around). In the original version, they eventually had two kids, and I'm just sticking with that out of: 1) loyalty to the original; 2) sheer laziness regarding determining when Zola was actually adopted (lololol like timelines mean anything in Grey's Anatomy). I did speed things up though this time. I wrote Meredith and Derek as being engaged during the Postpartum arc of the original MTGOF, and this time I went with pregnancy just to speed things up a bit.
Chapter 48. Bruised Through
Sunday. Today is Sunday, Addison thinks, not quite willing to open her eyes yet. She can feel Mark's chest warming her back, and one of his feet is wedged between hers. Her head hurts. Throbbing pressure, like someone is putting the heels of their hands against her temples and shoving inward. And her thoughts are coming in slow and just feel a bit…foggy. Loopy. Hazy. Christ, pick an adjective and stick with it. It felt this way yesterday too when she woke up.
Nausea moves through Addison's stomach. A different kind of nausea. Like the swooping ups and downs of a roller coaster. It is not pleasant, but it is not entirely unbearable and she does not feel like she is going to throw up, at least. It is just different. There is another side to this, she reminds herself as she comes to a bit more and realizes how thirsty she is. Addison grabs the glass of water she does not remember putting on the bedside table and drinks quickly. You just are not there yet.
"You okay?" Mark asks, voice gruff with tiredness when Addison settles back on her pillow. She feels a little bad for waking him, but soothing the dryness plastering her lips and tongue could not wait. She smirks in amusement at his question though.
"I think you know the answer to that."
Mark lightly drags his fingertips over her forearm. "I just meant that you were restless in your sleep last night."
"Oh, crap. Did I keep you up?" Addison asks, feeling bad. There are plenty of nights where the natural rhythms of sleep pull them apart, but she gets the sense that Mark did not let go of her at all last night.
"No," he says, even though the actual answer is yes, but I don't care about that. "I was able to sleep. It's okay. But if you're still tired and want to go back to sleep, or take a nap later, just keep in mind those are options."
"I think I was restless because I was dreaming a lot."
"Dream-bads?"
Addison smiles at the mention of what their daughter used to refer to scary dreams as. This makes her think about Kate though, which makes her want to cry. She shakes her head.
"I can't really remember specifics. It felt like I dreamed all night, and I don't think they were nightmares exactly…they were just unsettling and vivid. But it's just that, I could tell…I could tell…"
"You could tell what?"
"That even…" a shudder works its way over her chest and shoulders. "That even in my dreams I'm a bad mom."
"Addie, you're not a bad mom." Mark kisses her cheek. "You're just a sad one right now."
"Me being a sad mom is making me be a bad mom."
"You love your kids, Addison. And they love you too. Hey," Mark nudges at her shoulder when he can see the movements of resistance quivering along her cheek and jaw. "Don't chew the inside of your cheek. If you need to cry, let yourself cry. No fighting it."
"It's not a crying thing. I'm thinking about the s-word."
"Don't be sorry. No s-word. Are you hungry at all?"
"Not really yet, but I took my pill yesterday on an empty stomach and had huge regrets about it, so I probably need to eat something." She wrinkles her nose. "I kind of want to shower first though. Maybe you can make me toast or something while I make myself look less gross?"
"Yes to toast, no to you being gross."
"It's not me putting myself down," she replies. "I need to shampoo my hair – thank God Savvy packed a bottle for me, because I didn't peek in the shower to see what we have left from the last time we were up here. It's been at least a week. I know I've showered a lot in the past few weeks…multiple times a day, really. I hardly ever bothered with the actual getting clean part though. I would just get wet and stay under the water for as long as I could. Because it was easier…it was easier than spending time with you all."
"I get it," Mark murmurs. "I get what you're saying, I mean."
Addison closes her eyes. Fresh tears escape anyway. "I'm probably going to cry a little bit now," she warns, voice cracking.
"Okay," he says gently. "Then I'll hug you while you do."
"Morning, sleepyhead. Oh no…" Derek's smile fades when he sees Kate is awake and is making soft snuffling sounds under her blanket. He has just knocked and slipped into her room to check on her. Per Mark's detailed log, Kate is usually up around eight on weekends, and it's pushing nine now. But there are tears, Derek sees. No wonder she hasn't gotten out of bed yet. "Not sleepyhead…sad-head."
It's not meant as a joke; it's truly the first observation that pops into Derek's head when he sees her rubbing at her eyes. Still. It has to be one of the dumbest things he has ever said. But then he remembers something of significance and cuts himself some slack. Derek adores Kate in a way he initially never thought he could, but her father is Mark. Her bar for humor is probably fairly low, considering the jokes she is used to hearing. And Kate, to her credit and his assessment, does giggle at sad-head.
"Where's Meredith?" Kate asks, pushing up to a sitting position.
"Taking a shower. She'll be out soon," Derek answers as he takes a seat next to her. He gently smooths a hand over the creases and flyaway strands currently making up Kate's fiery red locks. Also possibly barfing in your mom and dad's shower, if the last few days are any indication. "And your brother is still sleeping. What's wrong though? Why are you a sad-head?"
"I miss Mommy. And Daddy," Kate adds after a beat, because it is true, but she really, really misses her mommy right now. Old Mommy. "But I 'specially miss Mommy."
"I know you do. You'll get to FaceTime with them later today though. And remember Sav, Weiss, Andrew, and Emily are going to come over? It'll be a good day. I know you miss your mom and dad, but we'll still have fun today."
"Is Mommy better yet?"
"I don't know, Kate. Sometimes for things like this, it takes a little time. She might not be all the way better yet, but she's getting better. You know how sometimes you accidentally get hurt? Like when you fall and scrape a knee or an elbow or something?"
Kate exhales dramatically and points out a fading scrape on her left knee. Derek has to squint to see it at first, but there is definitely healing skin forming at the edges of the pinkish mark.
"How'd you get that?"
"Tag at recess. I was trying to get away from Riley and I tripped."
"It looks like it's almost gone now. I bet the boo-boo used to look worse, right?"
"Yeah. I wore a purple Band-Aid and Daddy put cream on it. Now it's almost invisible again."
"That's kind of what's going on with your mom right now. It's like her brain fell and got hurt. And when that happens, it's like a scrape. It takes a little time before the owie goes away. So right now your mom is getting lots of rest and taking a special medicine. She's going to get better, Kate. I'm a brain doctor and brains are just kind of tricky, so sometimes it takes a little time for them to get better."
Kate shakes her head. She does believe him, but she remembers something else about brains that her mom once told her. "Mommy says brain surgery isn't that hard." She thinks her mommy meant it as a joke, and that has to be right, because Derek does laugh when Kate tells him this.
"Your mom would say that," Derek smirks. "I promise you though. Even if brain surgery isn't hard, I still know a lot about brains. And your mom's brain is going to get better. Now, let's get up and get dressed. We'll have breakfast, and then if you want to play catch, we can go to Central Park. And if Henry is awake, he and Meredith can come with us."
"Will you throw me ground balls, too?"
"Absolutely."
Addison does end up feeling less loopy after a warm shower. When she sits down for breakfast though, she feels a flash of anger at the oval green pill Mark has carefully laid out on a napkin next to her breakfast. Anger towards the pill itself, of course, but also anger towards her husband. She had the same thought when Mark asked if she needed any help when she got out of bed to hop in the shower: I am not an invalid. And now this. I don't want you to be in charge of my medication.
"I need to say something," she says quietly. The bottle of Zoloft is on the kitchen table, which meant Mark grabbed it off her nightstand and probably did not have a chance to bring it back upstairs. It's not like he's trying to be controlling about this, but it still just…stop right there. Use your words. Nice words. "I'm trying to do the Vermont thing. The polite, not rude Vermont thing. I. Well. You don't think I'm going to not take the medication, right? Or that I'm going to pull an Esther Greenwood and take a nap in the crawl space after swallowing the contents of the bottle?"
Mark shakes his head. "No to the first, and no to the second, although I have no idea who Esther Greenwood is."
"The Bell Jar. I brought it up because if you're not worried about those things, I'd like to be able to get the day's pill out of the bottle myself. I know you're just trying to be helpful, but it's making me feel like a baby and a loser. And I know there isn't much about this I can control, but this is a small thing I can control, so. I want to be in charge of this."
"Okay. I understand," Mark replies. "I'm sorry, Addison. I wasn't thinking about it that way. Are you…are you mad at me?"
A slow smile teases her lips up, and this one actually does reach her eyes. "Not a fair question. I am always mad at you."
Mark chuckles in response. "Hey, you made a joke."
"Yeah, I did. But no, I'm not mad at you…" she loses the rest of her thought as she watches Mark – with no explanation – twist and pop the lid off the pill bottle, and put the pill in front of her back inside the bottle. He then slides the bottle over.
"Now you can pick a new one for today."
"You're so stupid," Addison says with a giggle and another smile. She appreciates this gesture though. "But I love you. And thank you for getting what I mean and being patient with me."
"Sure. I texted Derek while you were in the shower, by the way. The kids are doing well. They're going over to Central Park right now. Meredith is on baby duty and Derek is going to throw the ball around with Kate. Then Sav and Weiss and the twins are coming over. I was thinking after we finish eating we could take a walk on the beach, and then FaceTime with Kate when we get back. And Henry, if he's awake."
Addison nods in agreement. "I would really like that. Did Derek…did he say how Kate is doing? Just. I know things have been different, but normally when I'm not there at night, she -"
"Kate's good," he interrupts, lightly squeezing her hand. "Derek said there were no problems with bedtime, and she even slept in a bit today. She's doing well, Addie. It's okay. Oh and also, I don't know where it's coming from, but Derek said that if he can get Kate to commit in writing to one day becoming a neuro surgeon, he'll happily pay for med school."
"Ew."
Mark smirks. "Yep. Somehow I knew that would be the response. You're the only person I know who would be disappointed if your kid went the neuro route."
"You okay?"
Don't. Don't be rude. Addison is trying to give up on hurtling snarky replies to this question. Not every time Mark asks is directly related to her depression, anyway. He's just looking out for her. And this time it's because Addison stops on their way down the sand-splattered steps that divide the stretch of quiet beach from their house. So it's a valid question.
"I…yeah. I just need a minute." She hasn't been outside much lately. And she definitely hasn't been outside while adjusting to a new medication. Stepping into the blindingly bright sunlight feels vaguely like entering a dream. Everything seems exaggerated, somehow. She takes a few calming breaths, and then jiggles their joined hands to let Mark know she's ready. Ready-ish.
"How are you feeling?" Mark asks a few minutes later when they're traipsing along the shoreline. It's too cold to remove their shoes and socks and let the foamy water rush over their ankles, but it still feels nice to walk by the water and inhale the rich, salty smell drifting off the sunlight waves. Even Addison seems a little comforted by the walk. "About getting used to the medication, I mean."
Grains of sand kick up around them as Addison comes to an abrupt halt. She scowls. "Today is only my third day taking the pill, Mark. I've been on it for like six minutes. Most patients don't feel any sort of relief for -"
"I meant as far as side-effects."
"Oh." She stares down at her feet. "I already have the agitation one locked down, apparently. Sorry."
"It's okay."
"I'm experiencing nausea; it's worst in the morning. Then there's some…numbness. And sleepiness. And a weird amount of yawning. None of it's pleasant, but it could be a lot worse, I guess."
"What's the numbness like?" He asks quietly, wanting to understand.
"I don't know how to explain it. Maybe numbness isn't even the right word, because I can still cry and feel things – as you know. It's more just like, who I am right now. I don't feel all the way real. I'm not myself, but I also haven't become someone else yet. I…I know it sounds weird. That's probably the best way I can describe it right now," Addison says. "And then the other s-word side-effect is yet to be determined. You know. Sex."
"What about sex?"
"Loss of sex drive. Loss of ability to orgasm. And don't – don't make a sleazy comment about you being able to make me climax regardless of what SSRIs are pumping through me."
Mark shakes his head. "I was only going to say sex isn't the priority right now. Getting you better is. Besides, this has never just been about sex, Addison."
"It's also never just been about serotonin deficiencies, yet here we are. I'm sorry – I'm not trying to snap. I – I just. I'm just frustrated." She blinks hard, feels her knees weaken. Mark curls his free hand around her elbow to steady her. Shit. "And…and now I'm kind of dizzy. Also a side-effect. And probably karma for being a bitch."
"You're not being a bitch. But yeah, I can tell – your face is losing color, too." Mark rearranges his hands on her waist, and tugs her back a few steps, guiding her further away from the water. "You'll be okay. Let's just sit down for a bit until it passes."
He gingerly helps her get down in the sand, and then settles in behind her, coaxing her back against his chest and stretching his legs outside of hers.
"You're just trying to feel me up, aren't you?" Addison manages a small smile when Mark loosely wraps his arms around her. But the moment of brief humor slips away and now she just wants to cry again.
"I wouldn't complain if you wanted me to, but no, I'm not. Lean back and relax."
"But I…I…"
"Shh. Just rest."
"I'm a burden. I'm so fucking sorry. I don't want to feel this way, but I can't make myself feel any other way."
"You're not a burden to me, Red. And of course you don't want to feel this way…no one does. Now close your eyes and rest for a few minutes. Trying to talk through the lightheadedness isn't going to help. Tell me to 'fuck off' in your head if you need to, and don't hold back if you need to cry, but I'm politely asking you to stop with words for a few minutes while I hang on to you."
Addison manages a small nod and grudgingly follows his instructions. Dizziness aside, she does note that it is kind of nice out. Somewhere in the low fifties, but the sun is out, the breeze is surprisingly calm at the moment, and she really does like being in Cape Cod – she feels a little less guilty being sad here than at home. Tears and light sniffles still accompany these observations, but she stays quiet, focusing on the sounds of waves breaking and Mark's comforting words threading through her ears.
"Better," she decides after a few minutes. She moves her fingertips along her cheekbones, ridding them of moisture. "Things are less spotty. Do I have permission to talk now?"
Mark smirks at the trademark sassiness pushing through. "Yes."
"I didn't tell you to 'fuck off' in my head, for the record."
"Wouldn't be the first time if you did though."
"True," she grins. "Did you bring your phone with you? I…I kind of want to see the pictures of the kids that Derek sent you."
Mark hands her the phone and watches as Addison swipes through the most recent pictures. A Meredith and Kate selfie. Kate and Henry lying together on Henry's activity gym, faces slightly obscured by the hanging toys on top of it. Derek with both kids – holding Henry, and Kate peeking over Derek's shoulder at her brother. A close-up of Henry gazing at the camera with a serious expression, lips slightly parted. Addison stares at the last picture the longest.
She has exposed a sense of humor and smiled at various points today, and Mark can just feel the subtle inflation of liveliness when she looks at pictures of their kids. There is still such a long, complicated road ahead and the pain Mark is seeing her go through feels like it is going to crack his heart wide open, but there have been moments of optimism today, moments where he has caught a glimpse of the woman she was before depression unfairly cloaked over her.
"He's such a beautiful baby," Addison comments when she hands Mark back his phone. "Kate was a beautiful baby too – just stunning, really – but this boy belongs on the front of a damn Gerber jar."
"Definitely. Kate is like ninety-five percent you, but he's more of a combination of both of us – I see both of us, at least, and some of Kate's features. It's kind of my hair color, minus the salt-and-pepper. Mine was like that at his age though, sort of between blond and brown, and -"
"Caramel," she interrupts. "Like a light caramel. That's what his hair color reminds me of at the moment. And he…he has my eyes, right?"
"He does. Beautiful eyes."
Addison inhales nervously, not sure if she is ready to hear the answer to her next question. "Has Henry…has he smiled yet? A true social smile? I know I should know, but -"
"He hasn't. Maybe he'll save that milestone until we get back."
"I just have to keep telling myself that there are so many things ahead for him," she says quietly. "That I've missed some things, but not all the things."
"That's right."
"I think we can head back to the house now. And when we get back there, I think – I think I'm ready to FaceTime with the kids." A lightness fills Addison's chest at the possibility of talking with Kate, and getting the chance to bond with Henry one day. It is not happiness, not even close, but it feels like hopefulness. The edges are a bit softer right now.