Chapter title is a lyric in the song "Enough to Go By," by Vienna Teng. Excellent, excellent lyrics for these two fools.

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. .

Chapter 18. Carry the Weight

"You can stay tonight, right?" Mark asks while stretching out his limbs and releasing a happy, satisfied post-coital yawn.

"Yes," Addison replies, smiling widely enough that it almost hurts. "I can stay."

She told Mark this earlier, but she likes that he asked again, that maybe he asked again just to hear her say yes again. Derek is in Boston; he has been a bit more eager in the past few months to assist neighboring (or not-so-neighboring) hospitals with procedures, and has also spoken at conferences and done guest lectures at several med schools. Addison thinks he does it because it allows him to be out of the house more. Or he just wants to be on the presentation and lecture circuit more, maybe. That's the thing with Addison's husband, she knows: Derek can never just rest, if only for a moment, when it comes to his career. There is always more to chase.

She isn't sure what procedure Derek is leading at UMass. She basically tuned him out as soon as he told her what days he would be gone. All she could think was that this meant time with Mark, privileged time that didn't come with a calculated leave his apartment by eight PM, leave his apartment by nine PM, whatever sort of plan. Addison thought of just having Mark come over to the brownstone tonight, but in the end, figured it would be easier and less guilt-inducing (less, but still plenty prevalent) just to go to his apartment. Mark slept over at the brownstone once (albeit, there wasn't much sleeping), and they have had non-sleepover sex there twice this month, both times Derek was on-call for the night and crashing at NYP. One of the times Addison and Mark couldn't even make it to the bedroom; they ended up going at it frantically on the living room floor. The friction burns and jewel-colored bruises were still worth it though.

"By the way, how's Charlene doing?" Addison asks. She smiles when Mark pulls the comforter up around them; he knows that she likes to snuggle back under it almost immediately after sex. "She was with me today on a case where my patient had an amniotic fluid embolism and she did a really great -"

"Addison," he cuts her off with enough force in his voice that her head tilts back against her pillow in surprise. "Don't do that," he says, agitation brimming in his tone.

"Do…do what?"

"That thing where you're asking about her, but really you're just fishing because you want me to talk about her, or, like, give you intel or something. I don't want to talk about her. Especially not with you."

Addison presses her lips together. She honestly wasn't sure what compelled her to ask about Charlene, but now that Mark's offered up this retort, of course that's why. She wonders when she became so predictable, so damn easy to read. "You're right," she offers quietly in response. "Sorry."

Mark lightly touches her elbow, commiserating and apologizing all at once. "The fact that I sometimes still have sex with Charlene and…" he lets the rest of the sentence retreat. He doesn't really need to say and other women. Addison knows, even though she doesn't ask. "I don't do it to hurt you or make you feel bad, Red. And I'm always careful. You know those things, right?"

"Yeah. I know."

Mark waits for more. Maybe she'll ask Why do you do it then? and he will try to give her Olivia and Lynette's theories, as well as what he's always known about himself: he doesn't want to get hurt and he doesn't want to be alone. And if he is going to get hurt, he doesn't want to be the one who gets hurt first. Addison doesn't ask though. Mark isn't convinced he actually owes her an explanation anyway…he thinks that he just sort of wants to owe her one, perhaps? She's more the cheater than he's ever been – if what he's doing when she's not with him can even be considered cheating. It's not, right? Mark is saved from further concerns on the subject though when the self-timer lights unexpectedly come on.

He watches as Addison rolls over onto her back to take in the blue galaxy and sprinkle of laser dots now waving above them on Mark's ceiling. Saved? he thinks. Maybe this is actually just really fucking embarrassing. The projector with its fiber optic lights is never, ever plugged in when Mark has company, but he was alone last night, and forgot to unplug it this morning.

"Whoa," Addison says quietly.

"Yeah. I never thought this would be what I mean when I say this while in bed with a beautiful woman, but…this has never happened before."

Addison giggles. "Well, I imagine that has never happened before, either. Not with us, at least."

"No," Mark says with a burgeoning smirk. He shifts onto his back and reaches for the remote control on his nightstand. "But this is…well, I can tell you that it's a very manly galaxy projector, and staring at the ceiling with this on somehow helps me fall asleep, but let's be real: an argument could also be made that this is just a high-tech nightlight for little kids who are fighting bedtime because they're scared of the dark. It's kinda cool though. See, there's all these different colors and settings. A college kid would probably love the hell out of this for house parties and stuff." Mark holds the remote out towards the orb-shaped projector on the floor on his side of the bed, and cycles through a few settings, showing Addison the various colors, both with and without the neon green laser dots affixed to the ceiling and walls. "I like this one best though," he adds, pushing at a few of the buttons until just a deep shade of blue, almost storm-like, is hovering above them. And then he selects the motion button so that the sky is slowly moving above them. There's something comforting about the swaying motions, almost maternal, even; it makes Mark think of what it might feel like to be in a rocking chair. Not that that's something he remembers, and he suspects Jenny probably didn't rock him all that often as a baby and toddler anyway.

"Me too. I'm not about to hear whale songs, am I? I'm just kidding," Addison says this quickly, even though Mark is amused at the comment and doesn't take offense. She knows it's a habit, to sometimes clarify her meaning – Derek does have a sense of humor, but he doesn't respond well to jokes that poke fun at him. Addison feels Mark's fingertips brush against hers under the comforter, so she folds her hand inside of his. "I really like this; it's peaceful. It doesn't really make me think of a galaxy or a starry night though…it makes me think of being at bottom the ocean, or like a swimming pool or something. Except you're able to breathe just fine. You're not going to drown."

"I can see that." They are quiet for a moment, and then Mark clears his throat. "Addison…" he squeezes her hand a little tighter. "About us…I'll wait. I'll wait for you, but I don't think…I don't think I can wait forever."

"I know." Addison swallows heavily. "I know."

Words dissipate after that; there just isn't much to say.

Instead, they continue to watch the silky, ghost-like movement of the fake water above them. It's soothing, and makes Addison feel like she is wrapped inside a really good dream. A really good dream with Mark.

She just isn't quite sure what to do when she wakes from this beautiful dream and is faced with reality again.

. .
. .

Addison blinks as a lengthy shadow fans across the textbook she has been paging through. She goes back to the previous sentence to reorient herself, assuming the clouds have simply blocked out the sun. It's chilly in Washington Heights this afternoon, but reading in one of the campus courtyards won't be an option for much longer due to the weather, so she is determined to savor this time. When the shadow remains in place though and a gruff Hey pipes over the languid breeze, Addison lifts her head.

"Oh. Hey," she says, glancing up to see Mark standing near the edge of the blanket, close but not quite directly in front of her. "I didn't think I'd see you until class tomorrow. How's it going?"

"Pretty good. You by yourself?"

"Not for much longer," Addison replies. "I just got out of Pathology. Naomi and Sam are on their way; they're grabbing cookies and coffee from that café near the Health Sciences building, and I'm holding down the fort." She gestures dramatically at the threadbare blanket she has spread out under a maple tree whose leaves are beginning to transition to the crinkling, crunchy stage. "You can join us if you want," she adds, and Mark grins and sits down beside her.

"I can't stay long," Mark says, "but I saw you when I was passing through the courtyard and I wanted to ask…are you free tomorrow night?" This prompts Addison to emit a soft, surprised Oh. Her cheeks turn a little pink at the implication that seems to be hanging there, and then Mark quickly clarifies, "No, not – not with me. I wanted to see if you're available because Derek wants to ask you out."

Addison's blush only intensifies, but a wide smile accompanies it. "If Derek wants to ask me out," she says, "then he needs to ask me himself."

"He will. I'm not the messenger, I swear. And he doesn't know I'm here; he'd kill me if I knew I was talking to you about this. I'm just…testing the waters, I guess, to gauge your interest?" Mark briefly lifts his shoulders. "Derek was – you wouldn't guess it, looking at him, but he was shy in high school, and a bit of a nerd. Like, wore a band uniform, weighed about a hundred and ten pounds, hadn't figured out hair products so he had an afro…and he was super tongue-tied in the very rare instances he talked to girls he thought were cute. He's not like that now, and could basically win beauty awards or something for that damn hair of his, but I think he still carries a little of his high school self around with him, so I just…I figured if you weren't interested, I could maybe try and steer him in another direction."

"That's nice of you – you're a good friend, Mark. And you know, I had a band uniform in high school, too. Plus, braces and a lisp, and my entire face would turn as red as the hair on my head when I so much as looked at a boy." Addison nearly shudders at the memory. She's come a long way, since then. "Luckily for myself and Derek, high school didn't last forever."

Mark grins. "Wow…I love that you were also a nerd. And he'll love that, too."

"I'm sure you were like the A.C. Slater of your high school, but know this, Mark Sloan: you're in med school, so that makes you a little bit of a nerd, too."

"True. Well, I'm sure Derek will talk to you tomorrow afternoon...God, I hope he's normal about it and doesn't just straight up lean over our poor cadaver to ask if you want to get dinner. But, wait, we got distracted. I'm just realizing…you didn't actually answer me. If he asks you out…you're gonna say 'yes,' right?"

"Yes. I'm going to say 'yes.'"

"Yes to what?" Naomi asks as she approaches with the top of a white bakery bag clutched in her fist. "Sam's waiting on the coffee," she adds as she sits down on Addison's other side.

"Nothing." Mark nods his head in greeting to Naomi. "I was actually just leaving. I have a study group I need to get to."

"Wait a minute. We have a study group," Naomi states. And Addison knows that it really is a we now – she, Naomi, Sam, Derek, Mark. Their Gross Anatomy class and their cadaver, Mr. Mulligan (named by Derek) have tied them together. They have formed something of a friendship outside of class, and although it does involve a lot of studying, sometimes there is also beer, Chinese food, and non-study-related topics to bond over. "Are you cheating on us?" Naomi asks, a teasing smirk extending across her face.

"Me?" Mark points to his chest and arranges his expression into one of mock horror. "Cheat? I'd never. This is a different kind of study thing. The one-on-one kind, if you know what I'm saying."

Addison rolls her eyes. "We know what you're saying, Mark."

"I figured as much." Mark pushes back to his feet. "Well, I better get going or I'll be late. See ya in class tomorrow, Naomi and Red."

Naomi glances over at Addison. "When did 'Red' start?" She asks once Mark is out of earshot.

"I don't know," she admits with a mild shrug. "He's the only one who calls me that, and I don't hate it enough to tell him to cut it out. I'd say something if it was 'Ginger' or 'Carrot Top,' believe me, but 'Red' is one I'm okay with." Addison's eyes scrunch while she searches over her friend's face. "What? You look funny…what is it?"

"Did he ask you out?"

"Did who ask you out?" Sam asks, coming up behind them. He hands the coffee carrier to Naomi, and then sits down next to her.

"Mark Sloan." Addison provides the answer while Naomi distributes their trio of coffees and starts passing around the bag filled with chocolate chip cookies. "And no. We were just talking. He was seeing if I had any interest in Derek, because I guess…" she grins happily, allowing herself to feel excited about the possibility of it. "I guess Derek is thinking of asking me out."

Naomi smiles encouragingly. "Oh, good," she says. "That's good."

"And it would be bad if it was Mark?" Addison asks, genuinely intrigued by the now-present relief on Naomi's face.

"Very bad. He's, like, a steamy kind of hot, but -"

"Damn," Sam interrupts with a forced laugh. "Sitting right here, Nai."

"Yes, I'm aware." Naomi indulgently pats Sam's hand. "Mark just doesn't seem like dating material though. Derek is sweet and friendly and will probably treat you like a princess. And Mark is…Mark is nice, but sort of a player, don't you think?"

"Yeah. I completely agree," Addison admits. "Plus, it seems like he's already making his way through the other available females in our program. I know he already has or at least had something going on with Emily and with Heather S., and obviously he was just about to go off and meet someone else…he's definitely not dating material or boyfriend material."

"I thought it was the other Heather."

"Oh no. He got to Covey, too? I thought she…" Addison wracks her brain for additional details. She and that Heather have Foundations of Clinical Medicine together, and Addison has a vague recollection of a boyfriend being mentioned. "I thought Heather Covey has a boyfriend."

"My general impression is that someone's relationship status doesn't matter to Mark. I'm not trying to be rude," Sam adds quickly. "I like the guy. But that's…that's just what I think after having known him for a few weeks."

Addison nods in agreement. "I think you're right," she decides. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about it. It's Mark's best friend who is going to ask me out, hopefully. Not Mark."

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. .

"So tomorrow…" Savvy begins while she fingers the muslin swaddle currently wrapped around her sleeping daughter. "Tomorrow when they discharge me and I'm free to go home and just like…holy crap, be someone's parent, am I just…supposed to pretend that I know what I'm doing and that I won't break her or drop her or something?"

"Wow. Maybe let's not share every single thought in front of someone whose profession makes her a mandated reporter, Sav," Weiss hastily says, but he's smiling and laughing, too. He has the new dad look: nervous, excited, in complete awe of his wife. He traces his thumb against one of their daughter's puffy, velvet-soft cheeks. Addison sees it every day, how couples fall in love all over again as soon as a baby is placed in their waiting arms. And when a baby was handed over to Savvy and Weiss about two hours ago, it was no exception.

Addison sees the transformation in Savvy, too, that profound moment when every cell in a woman's body is forever altered. Savvy is no longer just a woman – she's a mother now, and always will be. And such a concept is exhilarating and terrifying and…I want that. I want that, too. The thought is striking Addison over and over. She has always wanted to be a mother, yes, and has sort of taken it for granted that one day she would be, but now…time is more finite, now. And it's not just because one of her best friends is holding a baby, which inevitably comes with a sense of left out-ness, the need to take stock of what you have and don't have, and the overwhelming realization that some of the people around you are just such grownups, even if you are a grownup yourself. The weight of her desire is just…it just is now. Addison feels it.

And once you feel it, you can't not feel it.

"I promise you won't break or drop her, Sav," Addison says. "I'm gonna go track down Derek now that you guys are all settled. Then we'll give you some privacy – or at least the chance to get a little sleep, hopefully. The last time I saw my husband he was in the hallway near your birthing room in between surgeries…a few minutes before you had that one contraction where you nearly broke Weiss's hand."

Savvy laughs softly at this. "It really hurt, okay?"

Addison excuses herself, and walks over to the wing on the other side of the nurses' station, where she last saw Derek. It takes a few laps around the L&D floor, but eventually she does run into him when he's coming out of the elevator.

"It's a girl," she informs him, nearly breathless with excitement. "Phoebe. Phoebe Elizabeth. She's absolutely adorable."

"A girl." Derek grins broadly. "Weiss thought it was going to be a girl, but Savvy – those courtroom arguing skills – she was so sure it was a boy, that she had me sure, too."

"Oh, you'll find that she's changed her tune now. All of a sudden Sav is saying she was certain it was a girl the whole time…she's like a kid who realizes they're about to lose the board game, so they start changing the rules last minute. C'mon though." Addison flicks her palm forward, and Derek follows after her. "I'll take you to see them; we moved them to a postpartum room a few minutes ago. You all done for the day?"

"I am. The hovering earlier…it was weird, right?"

"Less weird, more just very mid-century of you. Hey, Derek…" Addison takes a deep breath and tugs on his forearm. Once she has verified no one is within earshot, she says, "I know it's not for like another nine weeks, but let's plan to go away for our anniversary."

Derek smiles, albeit in a strained way. "Hamptons?" He asks, assuming she has already decided on their behalf.

"No," Addison replies, trying to comfort herself with the knowledge that that smile was strained because Derek hates the Hamptons. She is too lost in this moment – lost in the anticipation – to allow herself to consider the other reasons her husband might be forcing a smile. "Well, I don't know," she says with a lazy shrug. "You pick. And whenever we get where we want to go, let's…let's start trying. I need to refill my birth control prescription around that time anyway, so I just…" she smiles. "I'll just plan not to do that."

"Yeah?" Derek asks, and this time his smile is genuine.

They have sex that night. The best sex they have had in a long time, Addison thinks when he rolls his hips against hers and she lets out a genuine moan. Her husband is present, loving, attentive tonight. Might as well practice, Derek joked while he was unbuttoning her blouse. They have always talked about this spring being the start of their baby-making adventure, but talking and putting a plan into action are two very different things.

"Don't tell anyone that we're going to start trying soon," Addison says afterwards while Derek is lightly rubbing one of her shoulders. What she really means is, Don't tell Mark. "I just…" she adds when Derek furrows his eyebrows, in need of a more thorough explanation, "I'm not going to tell Savvy or Nai or anyone I'm close with that we're going to start trying…people get weird about it. So maybe just don't mention it to anyone."

"Yeah," Derek agrees. "That's true."

He falls asleep easily, because he's happy – the men in Addison's life always seem to be able to do this. And even when they aren't happy, or are at least more stressed out or some other emotion than they are happy, they are capable of turning their thoughts off and still getting a decent night's sleep. Addison has no such luck.

She thinks of how many times in the past two or three years that she has thought that Derek wants a baby, but perhaps it's more about having a baby than it is about having a baby with her. Addison has had this thought so many times…and now, has she gone the same way as her husband? Is she a hypocrite? Has she misplaced her feelings? Derek will be a great father. He's a great guy. And yes, those are solid reasons to want to have a baby with him. But Addison will never truly believe that she wants to have a baby with Derek because he's a great husband. Because he's not. Not anymore.

Not that she's a great wife. Not anymore.

Addison begins to chew on the inside of her right cheek, gnawing and worrying over the damp, soft skin long enough to wake up with a sore in her mouth after a fragile, restless sleep. She feels so, so confused. And sort of alone, too.

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. .

After Addison has cleaned up the blood in the wine cellar and showered (it will take several more showers before she actually feels clean and no longer smells the bleach on her hands), she wanders through Bizzy's office. She searched it earlier in an attempt to find a note or any sort of clue that Bizzy planned to kill herself, but there was no note and there was no clue. And now Addison is back again. The lack of evidence filled her with both relief and despair, but this time around, it's not a foolish undertaking; Addison no longer expects to find anything that points to why Bizzy did what she did yesterday morning, but she is going to stand in here until anything about her mother, suicide attempt aside, makes any freaking sense. Which, Addison realizes as another wave of sadness crashes through her, kind of makes this a fool's errand after all. I don't know anything about her. She didn't want me to – doesn't want me to.

She traces her fingertips over the hardy spines of classic novels on the bookshelf, and by chance, catches sight of a gold bookmark shaped like an anchor poking out of This Side of Paradise. The choice surprises her; Addison can't specifically pinpoint what Bizzy's favorite book or who her favorite author might be, but she never would have taken her mother for an F. Scott Fitzgerald fan.

Addison pulls the novel off the shelf and opens it to the page that's been marked. She scans down until she sees the line that Bizzy faintly underlined in pencil: "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."

It's not a sign exactly, but it's still something, isn't it? Is that what this was like, she thinks, between Bizzy and Susan? Slipped briskly. An intimacy. Never recovered.

She puts the book back on the shelf and tries to pretend she never looked at it.

The words stick with her though. And approximately three years later, they certainly apply to her own life.

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. .

Near the end of April, Naomi calls and shares news that Addison never, ever saw coming: Naomi and Sam are separating. It nearly steals Addison's breath away to hear this, and while Naomi shares bits and pieces of the events of the past few days, Addison finds herself hit with unexpected, perhaps irrational thoughts: I have friends who have decided to get a divorce? I have friends who can do that?

"…and we're planning to tell Maya this weekend," Naomi adds glumly.

"Oh, Nai," Addison says. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I can…I can come out there…"

"Don't be silly," Naomi says insistently. "It's okay; stay where you are, Addie. I'd love to see you in person at some point – it's been a long time, hasn't it? – but you don't need to come out here right now. I mean, you're probably just gonna now receive the occasional hysterical phone call from me and you'll probably have to tell me to repeat myself because I'll be shoveling cheesecake into my mouth at the same time I'm talking and crying, but I'll…I'll manage. I mean, I have Maya; obviously I don't have any choice but to manage. And you know, the thing is, there wasn't…there wasn't even fighting. I didn't even know Sam was unhappy, Addie. We're busy with our jobs and running the practice and of course we're always busy with our kid, so yeah, maybe we could have checked in with each other more and prioritized the marriage more, but I still didn't know anything was wrong. There are always reasons to divorce, but the reasons not to divorce are supposed to outweigh the differences and flaws and all the other crap. And I'll be honest, I don't even know if Sam knows why he's doing what he's doing, but I don't…I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want me or who isn't happy around me, you know?"

"You don't think there's a chance you guys can work through this?" Addison asks quietly. She wonders though if maybe she is asking this more for herself than for the sake of two of her good friends. "I'm on your side no matter what, but -"

"I'm not sure," Naomi admits. "I'm not saying it's completely off the table, but just…I don't know. People should be with people who are in love with them, and apparently…apparently Sam doesn't feel that way about me anymore. I think the moment you start to give up, that's the moment you lose. So I don't…I don't know if marriage counseling is something that can help. I mean…you have to want to save the thing in order to actually save the thing, right? The work has to happen on both sides, and it just seems like…" Naomi sighs noisily into the phone. "Sorry. I actually need to leave in a few to pick up Maya from basketball. I didn't want to put off telling you any longer though. Can we…can we talk tomorrow though, if you're around?"

"Yes," Addison quickly replies. "Yes, of course we can. That gives me enough time to pick up cheesecake, too," she tries to joke. "We can talk and eat and cry at the same time. But I'm…I'm here for you, Nai. I'm here for you, no matter what. And the offer still stands for me to come out there – or you can come here, too. Bring Maya even, if you want to."

Derek is still at his practice. Not that that matters, because Addison doesn't…she shakes her head, confused and upset. She really, really just wants Mark right now. She types out a text and sends it off, hoping he is available so that she can come over. He usually is. The need for comfort right now is just all-consuming…even though it would just be sexual comfort and Addison would have to hide the fact that she's a little shaken. She feels like she can talk to Mark about almost anything, but she can't talk about Sam and Naomi's marriage with him because it would inevitably lead to having to discuss her own marriage. Her own marriage, which, ever since the baby discussion, has been good. Derek is working a bit later tonight, but he called to let Addison know that, and it just feels like he has been around more the past few days. They have so, so far to go as a couple if they want to get back to where they once were, if it's even possible to be who they once were – but right now Derek seems devoted, accessible. And maybe it's only because of the baby, because there's something to hope and look forward to in the tunnel of gloomy darkness that has become their marriage, but it still stands to reason that if the opposite of indifference is supposed to be love, then right now there's love in their marriage. That's something that could be built upon.

MS: Can't tonight. Tomorrow?

Can't tonight. Addison stares sadly at Mark's response, and holds down the appropriate button to turn her phone off. She knows what can't tonight means: he either has a woman over or is out and about to have a woman over. He always provides her with a little more detail when there's a harmless reason: Can't tonight. A coworker got tickets to an Islanders game. Can't tonight. Lynette and her husband asked me to have dinner with them. Can't tonight. Covering a shift in the burn center.

And the fact that Mark apparently does have company tonight…if Addison truly wanted to make things work with Derek, to build their marriage back up from whatever is left of it…if she truly wanted to, then the pain that crashes through her heart about the idea of Mark putting his hands on another woman, maybe stroking another woman's hair, maybe lying under a simulated ocean with another woman, maybe one day loving another woman and telling her so – that sharp pain wouldn't be there.

Addison walks over to the grand wall bookcase flanking the wall that separates her living room from the kitchen; she has a particular purpose in mind. Once she gets there, she studies a photo on the second shelf from her wedding day. Derek and Mark are leaning in to talk to one another. Mark's hand is on Derek's shoulder. They are caught mid-conversation, perhaps mid-laugh. Addison is standing a little behind Derek, and her gaze shifted to the camera right as the photographer snapped the shot. When they saw this photo later, Addison wasn't sure what was going on in that moment with her face (probably just the exhaustion, because while their wedding truly was a fairytale, it was an exhausting one and they had to smile for so, so many pictures), but her expression looks a little annoyed. As though Derek and Mark's mere presence exasperated her. As though it was Derek and Mark's special day, not hers. As though she was the third wheel. It's honestly one of their favorites though, and Addison and Derek couldn't stop laughing when they got the photos from their wedding photographer and came across this one. They framed it immediately, and gave a copy to Mark. And even now, with stress and anxiety rumbling like a thunderstorm through Addison's stomach, the thing is, it still brings a smile to her face.

She has carried so much of her childhood with her. It's the summation, the definition, of everything around her. She is constantly trying to fill a Bizzy-and-Captain-shaped hole in her heart. She fixes people and saves people because she doesn't always trust that she is able to fix and save herself – from what, Addison isn't particularly sure, but the sentiment stands. And she knows that she needs love and attention; she is positively ravenous for both.

Addison's thumb pushes at the bottom right corner of the picture frame, adjusting it. The three of them are so interwoven in one another's lives – they have been this way for such a long time, initially brought together as their surgeons-in-training fingers trimmed away the deep fascia, worked over the tendons, and took turns holding the cadaver's still, soundless heart in their hands. They observed for the first time how closely and intimately knit every structure in the body is – every muscle, every organ, every web-thin tissue – and they realized with such earnestness that such a wondrous concept extends to all bodies.

Bodies are made to heal. Addison said this to Mark a few months ago, before they slept together for the first time. They had been talking about Bizzy. Bodies are made to heal.

What about heartbreak though? Are bodies made to heal from that? Reasonably, Addison knows that yes, even then…but it's hard to see your way out of something when you are so, so far down in it. So how can Addison really even begin to untangle all these threads? And even if she did…what would be the end result? If she did choose to leave Derek, if she did choose to forever alter the landscape of her life, that doesn't necessarily mean things would work out with Mark. And Addison doesn't even know what working out in regards to Mark is supposed to look like, and something of giant concern is that Mark doesn't really "do" serious relationships, and he certainly doesn't "do" faithfulness. Plus, Addison isn't sure what she wants, either. Yes, she wants Mark day-to-day, but that isn't really addressing what she actually wants with him and from him. She isn't sure.

She could end up alone, and because of ending up alone, she will probably come to the conclusion that she is not enough. It's always been her fear, after all.

. .
. .

References/Nods to Various Episodes:

Derek in the hallway while Savvy was in labor was a nod to a scene in Grey's 2x16 when Richard, Derek, and George were lingering around while Addison was in a room examining Bailey's cervix. Addison, upon seeing them: "The gathering of men outside the delivery room…how mid-century of you."

Grey's 3x06, when Nancy Shepherd visits and the subject of Mark's tennis partner comes up (I mention the absolute crap out of the tennis partner and his wife in MTGOF, if you read that one as well. Weird references are fun.)

Nancy: "What are you doing here, Mark? Are you trying to torture him?" *and then patiently waits while Mark lists out his excuses*
Mark: "He's my family, Nancy. Plus…I needed a change of pace. Plus…I slept with my tennis partner's wife and he went out and bought a gun."
Nancy: "…there it is."

Grey's Anatomy, 3x23. Addison and Sam discussing Sam and Naomi's divorce in the backdoor pilot that executives cutely tried to tell us was not in fact a backdoor pilot.

Addison: "Was there a lot of fighting or...?"
Sam: "Hardly ever. Honestly...it was bad, what I did. I have no good reason. I woke up one day...and I couldn't do it anymore. It wasn't even a choice. I had a thought...next thing you know...I'm burning it all down. I left her. I don't know why. I don't know why. What kind of a person does that?"
Addison: "Hell if I know. And I did it, too."

(I could quote more about this, especially about the damage control that was season 6 Naomi/Sam in Private Practice, but look, I don't care enough to go quote hunting. Oh, and Naomi does love cheesecake.)

Grey's Anatomy, 4x08, in an incredibly touching Derek and Bailey scene where Bailey is describing her high school experience, and it turns out that Derek's wasn't so different:

Derek: "In high school, I was 110 pounds, and I hadn't yet figured out hair product, so I had a big afro, and, uh, I had acne. And I, too…wore a band uniform. Sax."
Bailey: "Oboe."
Derek: "And I would've been honored to take a girl like you to Homecoming."

Addison to her therapist, season 5, Private Practice: "Every day I deliver a baby, and every day I see...that moment of change. You know, that moment when every cell in a woman's body is transformed. And whatever happens – whether the baby is sick or healthy, happy or unhappy, lives or dies – whatever happens, that woman will never be just a woman again. She will always be a mother. She's transformed. And it's exhilarating and terrifying and…I want that."

(Also, this chapter very much felt like a swipe up/product placement for a galaxy night light projector lololol, but I promise I did not receive any sort of compensation for this. ;))

Thank you for reading. As always, comments/reviews are much appreciated and make me smile the way Naomi smiles at cheesecake.