AN: I'm gonna save the author's notes for at the very end. Just know that I was excited to post this chapter. :)
Addison was spending more time with Timothy. She genuinely enjoyed his company and looked forward to conversations with him. Nothing was official, and Addison was certain she wasn't ready for anything serious. But Timothy didn't seem to mind that she was taking her time, and encouraged her to "shop around" if that would help. Addison appreciated his company and the addition of a new friend to her small repertoire of friends in Seattle. But once or twice, Addison had caught wind of Derek being rude to Timothy. Dr. Tyndall had never said anything to Addison—he was too much of a gentleman to throw anyone under the bus that way. Plus, he didn't like gossiping. But Addison had heard from the nurses that Derek absolutely hated Timothy's guts, and no one knew why. She wanted to ask Derek about it, but he seemed to be in a perpetually sour mood. She had caught him and Meredith arguing in the stairwell more than once, and if anyone knew what dealing with a crabby Derek was like, it was Addison. And she definitely didn't need that kind of stress in her life right now.
She was making rounds on her patients when she caught up with Timothy, who was also doing post-anesthesia rounds on one of Addison's post-op patients. Addison and Timothy entered the room, an intern trailing behind her and started babbling about the case.
"Mary Johnson, 37-year old, status post emergency C-section under spinal anesthesia for fetal distress."
"Good morning, Mrs. Johnson," Addison greeted. "How are you feeling today?"
"Sore," the patient replied. "And my foot has been killing me."
"Your foot?" Addison questioned curiously. That definitely wasn't a usual complaint after a C-section.
Mary nodded. "My left foot has been tingling like crazy since I got back to the room last night," she explained, trying to sit up farther on the bed.
Addison raised a brow as Timothy walked over to the patient, trying to assess her condition. "Can you move this foot for me, Mrs. Johnson?" Timothy asked, touching the patient's right foot lightly.
"This foot is fine," Mary said as she wiggled her toes and flexed her ankles.
"And this one," Timothy pointed to the left foot.
"This one, not so great," the patient said frankly, unable to flex her ankle.
"Do you feel this?" Timothy asked as he touched the sole of the patient's foot, a look of concentration on his features.
"Not as much as I can feel the right," the patient admitted. "The left foot up to the left leg feels like it's going to fall off. Is that normal?" she asked, looking between Timothy and Addison.
Timothy pursed his lips. "It could be from the spinal anesthesia," he said carefully.
"Yes, it's likely" Addison agreed. "But could get a neuro consult just to be sure. Would that be alright, Dr. Tyndall?"
Timothy looked at Addison before giving a slight nod. He knew she would page Derek, that he would be her first choice for a consult. Normally he would have preferred to simply observe the patient and manage the pain, but this was a tertiary institution where specialized consults were possible and at one's disposal. He couldn't deny a patient that.
Addison turned to her intern and instructed her to page Dr. Shepherd. Within 10 minutes of paging Derek, he was in the patient's room, assessing her neurologic status, with Addison right behind him.
"Do you think it could be permanent?" Addison asked quietly, softly so the patient wouldn't hear. She was almost certain it was because of the spinal, but a neuro consult was always prudent just to be absolutely certain.
Derek cleared his throat. "Mrs. Johnson, I'm going to run some tests just to be sure," he said to the patient and ignoring Addison. He had been in an irritable mood all week, and today he wasn't in the mood to deal with Addison. He hadn't yet sorted his feelings out. But she had paged, and it was his job to beckon when a consult was needed, so he trudged on despite everything. "I'll order an MRI and EMG for this afternoon. But at this point it seems like it might be from the trauma of your spinal anesthesia."
"Is that… common?" the patient asked nervously.
Derek shrugged, avoiding Timothy's eyes. "It depends on how good your anesthesiologist is," he said matter-of-factly, missing the slight look of horror on Addison's face as she realized what he had just done. "It looks like Dr. Tyndall here hit your L3, which resulted in reduced sensation and poor motor strength in your left lower extremity."
Addison's eyes bulged. There was no way Derek was throwing another physician under the bus like that. It was unethical to do so, especially in front of a patient. She knew Derek had excellent bedside manner, so she was immensely shocked that Derek had done what he did.
"Dr. Shepherd," Addison warned cautiously.
Derek ignored her. "We can try steroids for the paresthesia and the foot drop, but if Dr. Tyndall made too much damage, it could be permanent."
Timothy, who was looking immensely pissed at Derek, cleared his throat then. "Mrs. Johnson, while it is an uncommon side effect post spinal anesthesia, paresthesias do happen. But they usually resolve within 72 hours with minimal to no permanent damage. I'm sure Dr. Shepherd here knows that."
Derek shook his head then. "I was asked for my opinion, and my opinion is—we can't know for certain until some tests are run. In the meantime, we can hope the damage is reversible. Dr. Tyndall can order meds for pain control." He looked between Timothy's incredulous expression and Addison's unreadable one before he excused himself and instructed the intern to page him once the results were in.
He had insulted a colleague in front of a patient, and there was no way Addison was going to let that slide. True enough, she heard the clacking of her high heels in swift pursuit of him a few seconds after he left the patient's room. He felt her pull him into an empty stairwell, her face red with anger and frustration.
"Do you care to explain what that was in there, Derek?" she demanded, hand on her hip. "You questioned a colleague's ability, insulted him in front of a patient, demeaned him and made the patient question her trust in him. You know just as well as I do that we don't do that."
"Addison," he said tiredly, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice. "You paged me for a consult, I came. You asked for my professional opinion, and I gave it."
"And your professional opinion was to insult someone else?" Addison asked incredulously.
"My professional opinion was that your anesthesiologist screwed up, and the patient has the right to know," he answered angrily, tone hard and indignant.
"You couldn't say that to me or Dr. Tyndall first? Discuss it with us? Or, I don't know, rephrased your words so it wouldn't seem like we have an incompetent doctor working on a patient?" she countered, feeling just as indignant as Derek did in that moment.
"He is an incompetent doctor, Addison," he confirmed with a wave of his hand. "That's what I'm saying."
"Because of one patient with an uncommon side effect?" Addison asked skeptically. "We don't get to judge who is incompetent based on a single mistake," she continued. "Derek, Timothy had every right to be mad at you in there, but he held his tongue to stay professional. But it seems the same cannot be said for you."
"That is rich coming from you," he snorted derisively, shaking his head and not meeting her eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, their voices growing louder as she forced Derek to look at her in the eye.
"It doesn't matter," Derek answered petulantly.
Addison huffed. "What, now you're going to insult me? What the heck is the matter with you? You are being terribly unprofessional right now, Derek."
"Don't talk to me about professionalism," Derek said through gritted teeth, feeling his ears grow hot with emotion. "I've seen you flirting with that guy. You're just mad because I called your boyfriend out for his incompetence. You're not acting professionally Addison. You're taking things personally, and that is just as an unacceptable."
Addison's mouth fell open. For a split second, she was speechless. Had Derek truly insinuated that this entire fight was personal to her? "First of all, Derek," she said, her voice hard, "Timothy isn't my boyfriend. He's a friend, yes, but he's also a colleague. And we do not disrespect colleagues. Ever. If you ever disrespected me like that in front of a patient, I wouldn't take it sitting down. But you're walking all over him because you know he won't stoop down to your level."
"My level?" Derek bellowed. "My level? And what is my level, Addison?"
"Low," she bit back vehemently. "Real freaking low. You're telling me I'm taking things personally, but guess what Einstein, so are you! I don't understand what the hell is going on with you, Derek. You're obviously going through something, and believe me, I sympathize. But you've been a pain in the ass to work with—this entire hospital is talking about you. Whatever this attitude is about, you need to keep it out of work. It has to stop, and it stops now."
Derek shook his head angrily. He needed Addison to get off his back. How dare she tell him what to do or how to be? She had absolutely no right. "You're not my wife, Addison," he almost shouted. "You don't get to nag me about my attitude."
Addison groaned in exasperation. "I'm not your wife, Derek," and thank God for that, she wanted to add, "but I'm your friend. And as your friend, I'm telling you that I'm concerned about you. The way you've been acting—this isn't like you at all." Well it was, partly. But it was different this time. "Tell me what's wrong, as your friend," she continued, trying to sound gentler even though it came out almost begrudgingly.
Something inside Derek clicked and exploded at the mention of the word friend—igniting with it all of his previously pent-up feelings, now out of control. "Friends? You think we're friends, Addison?" Derek asked angrily, his tone changing. Addison looked at him in confusion. "Friends is the excuse we give people to get them off our backs about breaking up. Friends is what we tell ourselves to keep up appearances and pretend we're over and okay and jolly well good. But it is exactly like the bullcrap we feed them about ending things on mutual terms to help us sleep better at night, when the truth of the fucking matter is that we did not end on mutual terms."
"Derek…" Addison said, her voice suddenly quiet as she realized what had Derek so worked up. She couldn't quite comprehend how things went from arguing about a patient, to arguing about who the hell broke up with who. It had been 9 years for Christ's sake! "Derek, what's this really about?"
"The decision wasn't mutual," he answered, voice still harsh. "I wanted to be with you."
Addison set her jaw in determination then, breathing heavily at the unexpected outburst Derek had had. Their argument made a terrible, completely unexpected swerve into dangerous territory, and it appeared like it was the precise reason Derek was acting the way he was. Now was not the time for a discussion like this. Now was not the time to make it about them. But it dawned on Addison that this was precisely what was getting Derek so riled up—emotions about the two of them. Emotions she had not so neatly boxed up along with everything else that wasn't right with her life. Emotions that Derek tried to box up, too, but were now exploding like a stick of dynamite.
"I wanted to be with you," he repeated, his voice low but still urgent and angry.
All of the memories of many years ago came rushing at her with those 6 words—all of the heartache and the longing and the regret. And she was unprepared for it. She came in to talk to him about his attitude towards a colleague. She didn't expect that it would inevitably lead to a serious argument about them. Suddenly her own box of emotions was flung open, scattering pieces of her heart that were wounded and scarred from what had happened between her and Derek so long ago. Matthew had helped her haphazardly set those aside, but here was Derek undoing the painstaking work, and it felt like too much to confront. The air was thick now, and her heart beat faster, thrumming in her ear, telling her that the "friendship" she and Derek had probably was the sham of all shams.
Overcome with emotion, she replied. "If you wanted to be with me, then you should have stayed," she said resolutely, feeling tears of frustration prickle at her eyes before she gave one last hard look at Derek and made a swift exit from the stairwell.
Derek stood, rooted in the same spot for a minute after Addison left, unable to believe what he had just said. He made it about them when it wasn't about them. But who the fuck was he kidding? It had always been about them. Always. They lied to each other's faces and to friends and family, but the truth of the matter was that they didn't end on mutual terms. They weren't friends. How could they be friends when he was still completely in love with her? He didn't expect his outburst, but he didn't expect Addison's even more. For a moment there was a look of horror on her features, followed by hurt and betrayal and regret in the same way they all happened years before. How he wanted to wipe it all away, kiss everything better. But things had surely become even more complicated than they were just 10 minutes ago.
With a sigh and a shake of his head, he left the stairwell, hoping to get a drink or ten to forget about what had just happened. He didn't mean for all of that come out, not now, not ever. But the words tumbled out before he could stop himself, and there was nothing that could be done. Words, apparently, once said, could not be taken back.
Unbeknownst to them both, Meredith had heard the entire argument from where she sat one floor higher. She just needed a little time to herself to breathe after a difficult patient, and a few minutes after she sat, she heard the door below her swing open and Addison and Derek argue. She was frozen in place, listening to Addison spit angry words at Derek for being unkind to Dr. Tyndall. And then she heard Derek say it. I wanted to be with you. Twice. Like it still mattered to him. Like it all just happened yesterday. And she realized—it might as well have. There was a raw edge in Derek's scratchy but angry voice, pain she had never heard from him before. And then came Addison's reply. Then you should have stayed. It was clear to her then that Derek was never really hers.
Only Meredith had heard the actual argument between Addison and Derek, but the entire hospital knew something was amiss between the two attendings. Everyone knew about what Derek had said to Dr. Tyndall in front of a patient. Everyone knew Addison followed hot on his heels. And since then, they avoided each other like the plague. The once inseparable trio of Mark, Derek and Addison was now reduced to just Mark and Derek or Mark and Addison, and it was making the gossip mill churn like mad.
No one thought it was possible for Derek to become drearier than he was before the fight. But ever since then, he had been unpleasant to work with, easily irritated, and nurses generally disliked working with him. Even the interns avoided him. Even Meredith wanted to get off his service. Derek was faced with the now undeniable truth that he was in love with his ex-fiancee, and that said ex-fiancee had moved on, not only once (with Matthew), but twice (with that English gentleman everyone fawned over). It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Meredith knew she was losing him. Even before that fight she had overheard (which she didn't have the courage to confront him about), she felt him slipping away. She wasn't sure when it started—in the beginning he staunchly spoke of how he and Addison were just friends and how he was over her. But over time, and as he spent more moments with Addison and probably got to know her all over again, Meredith knew his heart had turned. Oh, she was sure he didn't mean to. Derek was the kind of person who wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose. The fact of the matter was just that his heart was slowly drifting away. But that didn't stop her from wanting to keep trying. She felt like she needed to hold on just a little tighter, a little longer, and he would snap out of it and realize Addison had totally moved on from him.
So she planned dinners. Got him coffee. Gave him foot massages. Anything and everything for him to see what was right in front of him—her, Meredith, the woman who would give up the last piece of cheesecake for him, who would pretend to like his taste in music, who would hold a radio over her head outside his window. But the more she tried, the more he pulled away. The less he engaged. And the less she felt like he would ever be hers.
It was driving her insane. She wasn't the kind of woman who would mope over a man, beg for him to stay. She always viewed herself a strong, independent woman, and she hated how Derek made her everything she wasn't—insecure, whiny, jealous, and desperate. As much as she tried to concentrate on work, the thing with Derek ate her up. He didn't even bother to reassure her anymore, didn't bother to lie to her face. He just… checked out. And that was what hurt the most. He was stringing her along without even realizing it. She wanted desperately for Derek to stay, and that desperation was turning into an insatiable urge to slap him in the face and make him realize she was worth it.
And Addison? Addison looked impeccable as always. Meredith thought she was the most unfeeling, passive-aggressive cold-hearted bitch in the entire world to still seem as if nothing fazed her even when that fight with Derek should have affected her more. Meredith knew what had been said. The hospital didn't. And she felt, after all the words thrown, Addison should reflect a little more emotion than the annoyingly immaculate façade she always kept. Everything was always fine and dandy with her. A failed engagement, a divorce, and an awful lot of baggage trailing behind her, and yet she was still standing. Meredith kind of hated her for it.
Those were here thoughts as she trailed behind Derek, making patient rounds and tired of pretending there nothing was wrong. Derek was quiet, only speaking to instruct her about patients, and he looked so exhausted Meredith thought he hadn't slept well at all. There were bags under his eyes, an edge in his voice, and a droop in his shoulders that she could only construe as defeat. Meredith hated that. Why would he need to feel defeated? What was there for him to feel lost about?
"You'll make sure that this patient in 513 gets her MRI this afternoon, Dr. Grey," he said absently. "And that the one in 602 gets a neuro exam q1. If there's any sign of deterioration, we'll have to transfer to the ICU and start a mannitol drip."
"Of course," she said through gritted teeth, not wanting to show him she was annoyed, but also unable to let her personal life stay out of her work.
"And then if the patient in 1720 asks for more morphine could you make sure that—"
He was cut off by the sound laughter. From across the hall Addison was sharing a short laugh with none other but Timothy Tyndall. He thought by then Addison would have started taking serious thought about what had happened between them, but she seemed unfazed as she bantered good-naturedly with the anesthesiologist at the nurses' station. Meredith's eyes trailed to where Derek was looking, her heart falling at the sight that made Derek stop in his tracks.
"Make sure that?" she prompted, hoping to pull Derek's attention back.
Derek shook his head. "Make sure he gets his morphine, but get another critical care pain consultant to do it. I don't want that Tyndall guy anywhere near my patient."
"Seriously?" Meredith asked, not bothering to keep the annoyance in her voice.
"Yes, seriously, Dr. Grey," he said as he turned to her. "Is there a problem?"
"Oh, I don't know Dr. Shepherd. Is there a problem?" she countered sarcastically, eyes rolling. "You've been acting like a supreme jerk recently. I'm not going to compromise patient care just because you have a personal grudge against another doctor."
"A personal grudge?" Derek asked. "Dr. Grey, this is my patient. I get to decide who's on board with his care. And I say, I don't want that Tyndall guy in there."
"Gosh, I wish you cared just as much about who sees your patients as your care about, I don't know, noticing that you've been neglectful of your girlfriend recently?"
Derek looked at Meredith intently, blue eyes boring into blue eyes. "Now is not the time to talk about this," he said with finality, moving to turn away from her, but he stopped when she spoke.
"Now is not the time to talk about anything!" Meredith exclaimed in frustration. "You're never home, and when you are, you're always too tired to talk. You don't communicate with me. It's like you don't care that I exist."
"Meredith," he sighed, feeling a headache come on as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "We'll talk about this later."
"No—I'm done Derek. I'm done waiting for you to see me. Absolutely nothing I do makes you see me, and if now I've got your attention, then I'm not waiting any longer for you to hear me out."
They were standing the middle of the hallway, and people were starting to stare. Meredith was fuming, and honestly, he couldn't blame her.
"For the past weeks, you saw right past me. You were so absorbed in yourself, in your problems, in making sure Dr. Tyndall isn't on board any of your patients' care. And I've tried everything. I don't know what else is going to make you see me. But oh wait, I have an idea! Maybe, I should go out on a date with Dr. Tyndall, because that seems to send you into a blind rage. But wait," she laughed mirthlessly, "that won't work either—because I'm not Addison Montgomery!"
Her voice rose and rose until she was practically yelling at him. And by the end of her spiel, the entire hallway was looking at them. Derek looked disappointedly at Meredith before he shook his head and walked away, aware of all the eyes on him as he left Meredith standing in the hall. He knew it was a dick move—to leave Meredith like that after such an outburst. But he couldn't deal with it any of it—not with Meredith yelling at him about her discontent in their relationship, not with the gossip that was surely going to churn now that half the hospital had heard Meredith, and not with the possibility of Addison having heard the entire thing.
Another glass of scotch slid into Derek's line of sight. He looked up to see Mark taking a seat across him, his own glass of scotch in his hand.
"I figured you'd need more than one," he said without preamble.
"How bad is it?" he asked, eyes back on the table.
"Like a Southern California wild fire," Mark answered dryly. "Everyone's talking about Meredith yelling about not being Addison Montgomery. What brought that on?"
"Beats me," Derek replied. "We were talking about a patient, and then she went ballistics about Addison."
"You expect me to believe that crap?" Mark asked, brow raised dubiously. "Where there's smoke, there's fire, they say. And Meredith doesn't seem like the type to yell out of nowhere."
When Derek didn't answer, Mark didn't press. He had an acute sense that this was everything about Addison. He hadn't spoken to the redhead yet about today's events, but he knew that she and Derek had had some sort of argument after he insulted Timothy. Mark could surmise that Derek was jealous, even though Derek would probably never admit that. But he knew his best friend long enough to know that this Derek? This was Derek post break-up, in the first few months after he and Addison had broken their engagement. This was Derek after he found out Addison was engaged to Matthew Bradford. He was moody and irrational and an absolute jackass to deal with. It was just the way he was when his heart was broken. Mark was aware that there was still much to be said between Derek and Addison, but he wasn't expecting it to come to a head this way. He thought it would come in slow waves, in quiet realization, with time. He didn't expect Derek to act so brazen at the very idea of Addison dating someone else. She had married someone else for heaven's sake. She had moved on one way or another. But he was acting the way he did when he found out Addison was engaged to Matthew, and honestly, Mark felt pretty bad for him.
"Does she know?" Derek asked after a moment, not needing to elaborate who he meant by she.
"The entire hospital knows." Well, she had first row seats. She had witnessed the exchange with her own two eyes.
He nodded, pursing his lips. "I think I've really screwed it up this time," he said, taking a swig of his scotch.
"What have you screwed up exactly?"
Derek looked up and pondered at that. What did he screw up? Well, undoubtedly he had screwed it up with Meredith. He had strung her along and hurt her and pushed her to become a version of herself which he knew she absolutely hated. And he also screwed it up with Addison. Ever since that fight in the stairwell, all he could think about was how he had laid himself bare to her, sharing an uncharacteristic vulnerability which he hoped she would return. If he hoped to make good with Addison, he had done a fantastically wayward job of it. In short—he had screwed it up with both of them. But what exactly was weighing him down?
"Everything," he answered shortly.
"Self-pity isn't a cute look on you," Mark said flatly. "But I'm guessing you're finally ready to admit what you really feel about Addie."
Derek sighed. A moment's pause, and then, "Yeah."
"Well then," Mark said, setting his glass down. "What are you gonna do about it?"
He looked at Mark pointedly. "Nothing," Derek answered, taking another swig of his drink.
"Nothing?"
"What's there to do? She obviously doesn't feel the same way about me. I'm the fool who's taken more than 8 years to get over her, and apparently I'm still not. And she's moved on. She married, got divorced, and is dating someone else who is absolutely good to her."
"You think that thing with Timothy is serious?"
Derek shrugged. "Does it matter? It might as well be. I haven't seen Addison this happy since she got to Seattle."
Mark nodded in concession. Addison did seem happy. Or at the very least, she enjoyed his company.
"Why would I stand in the way of that?" Derek continued. "After today… after the last month actually, she probably would want nothing to do with me."
"What did you do?" Mark asked suspiciously. "You know, besides being an absolute dick to Tyndall."
Derek sighed. "We fought. I mean, we had a huge fight a couple of weeks back about Tyndall and… I don't know. It kind of slipped."
"Did you tell her you were in love with her?" Mark asked in surprise.
"No!" Derek answered defensively. "I didn't. But saying I love you probably would have been the better option because what I said was fucking cheesier than just saying I love you."
Mark raised a brow but didn't say anything, his expression expectant.
"I told her we didn't end on mutual terms," Derek sighed. "Eight years later, and that's still my issue. We didn't end on mutual terms, I wanted us to be together."
Mark frowned. He definitely wasn't expecting that. "I'm guessing she didn't take that very well," he said carefully.
Derek looked pained for a second before he shook his head. "She said… 'then you should have stayed'."
Mark gave a low whistle. His two friends had so many issues to work on, he wasn't sure where they would even begin, or if it was even worth repairing. But seeing Derek so broken yet again, and knowing that nothing could make him truly happy but being with Addison, Mark knew it was worth a shot.
"Your issues are so… deeply rooted, man," Mark said with a small chuckle. "You're gonna have to start at… basement 20 and work your way up. Or probably the ninth circle of hell."
"Thanks," Derek answered sarcastically. "Just the thing I needed to hear."
"Oh, lighten up, would you," Mark laughed. "Derek, you do realize you've been in love with the same woman for the past 9 years, and you thought this entire time there wasn't a chance. And now there is one."
"There isn't," Derek said resolutely.
"There is," Mark insisted.
"And how do you know that?" Derek asked. "You've seen her Mark. She's been through a tough time after the divorce, this is the first time she's been truly glad to be in Seattle, no thanks to me. I'm not about to ruin it for her."
"Sorry to say this bud, but you kind of already have," Mark said honestly, ignoring Derek's scowl. "But it doesn't mean it's hopeless. You said it yourself—she told you that you should have stayed. That's got to count for something."
"What's it gonna count for?" he challenged.
Mark shrugged. "If it was really over between you two, I don't think she would have said that. I'm not one to dissect a woman's brain because that's beyond me, but if you really wanted to know what I think, then I think she wouldn't have said that if she was over you." When Derek didn't respond, he continued. "Look, man, it's been 8 years. Eight years is a freakin' long time to get over someone. And if she's over you like you claim she is, she wouldn't have cared that you told her you didn't end on mutual terms. It just doesn't make sense."
Eight years really was a long time to get over someone. There were days in between those eight years that Derek felt he might truly be over her. There way days when the sun shone bright and not a single of thought of Addie came to mind. But there were also days when he allowed himself to be honest enough to admit that he missed her, that he regretted how they ended, that he wished things could have played out differently. In retrospect, he could say now he was fucking pathetic. Who took eight years to get over his ex? He was a neurosurgeon, a respectable man, handsome—women fawned over him and thought he was dreamy. He could have anyone he wanted. But he only wanted one woman, and that woman was, for the majority of those eight years, off limits.
"I still love her," Derek said quietly, the first time he had ever said those words out loud since her re-appearance in his life.
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Mark."
"Derek, everyone could see it from a mile away. You're still in love with Red, and she's still in love with you."
He shook his head. "She isn't. If she was, she wouldn't have married Matthew in the first place."
"Or maybe she married him to get over you. Have you thought about that?"
Derek sighed, tracing the rim of his scotch glass with his index finger. "Be that as it may, I don't think we can speculate on how she feels. Right now, I'm pretty darn certain she hates my guts after everything."
"She doesn't."
"How do you know that?"
"You forget Addison and I are friends too."
"Has she told you anything?" Derek asked.
Mark shook his head. "Nothing I'm willing to betray her confidence for."
"You suck. You're supposed to be my best friend."
"Which is why we're here talking," Mark replied with an eye roll. "Look—Addison and I, we've spoken. She told me you had an argument about Tyndall but she left out the part where you basically told her you were still hopelessly in love with her. But she seemed… sad. She was sad, that you guys were fighting."
"She's a great actress then. Never would have thought it bothered her."
"You know her—queen of the land of the passive-aggressive," Mark said with a wave of his hand. "She may be Addison, but she's still Bizzy's daughter, you know? The fact of the matter is that she seemed very affected by your argument, which I thought was odd because she's not usually that affected by… anything, to be honest. And now I know why. I think she feels regretful, and I think a part of her also wonders what if."
Derek frowned, trying to mull over Mark's words. His best friend was giving him hope, but he was scared shitless that it was false hope. Mark could have been reading her wrong this entire time. After all, Mark didn't have the best track record on reading women's emotions. But there was a part of him that clung to what Mark was saying, hoping it wasn't too late to make things right with Addison.
"Fix it, Derek," Mark said, looking him straight in the eye. "You're finally admitting you've been in love with same woman for the past 8 years. It's about time you pulled yourself out of the gutter and started acting on it."
Cristina watched warily as Meredith took another swig of tequila, both of them camped on the couch in the living room. Meredith was thoroughly inebriated.
"I made a complete fool of myself," Meredith said. "McDreamy made me a freaking fool."
Cristina frowned, watching Meredith closely. "He did," she replied frankly.
"He just let me yell like that and then left me there. He's a stupid boyfriend," she babbled drunkenly. "I don't know why I let myself fall for him."
Cristina sighed, eyeing the bottle in Meredith's hand and wondering if she should call it quits. She had downed almost half the bottle in just an hour. Cristina was happy to be the pity party, but she didn't want her friend to die.
"Cristina, you're not drinking," Meredith observed, noticing the Asian's apparent sobriety. "Here," she said as she thrusted the bottle into Cristina's unready hand, almost dropping it. "You should have something."
"I'm on call tonight and you kind of reek, so no thank you," she replied. "But you go on."
Meredith sighed, melting into the couch a little more. "I didn't know Derek dated Isabella freaking Rossellini. I'm no Isabella Rossellini. I'm more of a… Judy Garland maybe."
Cristina rolled her eyes. "You're not."
"I'm not," Meredith agreed thoughtfully. "I'm Ingrid Bergman. Or Grace Kelly. I'm freaking Grace Kelly and Derek still dumped me."
"He didn't dump you," Cristina said dryly.
"Well, I'm dumping him," Meredith answered resolutely.
"Good. Serves him right," Cristina replied. "You're Grace Kelly and don't you forget."
Meredith sighed again, taking the bottle from Cristina's hand and taking another swig. "I hate him."
"No you don't."
"No, I don't," she agreed tiredly. There was a long moment of silence when Cristina thought Meredith had fallen asleep, but then she sighed and took another sip, silently staring into space.
The Asian frowned again. "Look—what McDreamy did was McStupid, and I'd be the first to tell you you shouldn't lose your marbles over a man. But if you really wanted him… then you know… you gotta fight for him," she said, leaning a little on her last phrase with a bit of disgust, as if it were uncouth for a lady to throw herself at a man. And in her world, it was. But Meredith really liked Derek, and if she was serious about him, then she could fight.
Meredith shook her head, considering Cristina's words and, even her inebriation, knew she didn't have a solid chance. "The only people who don't know that Derek loves Addison are Derek and Addison," she answered quietly. "How do I compete with that?" she asked, her voice suddenly watery, feeling all of the emotions of the past few months catch up to her in that moment. She snuggled next to Cristina, leaning her head on her shoulder.
"You don't compete with that," Cristina murmured, letting Meredith lean on her.
"Derek loves Addison. He's known, I think, for a while. He was just too obsessed with being the good guy to tell me." She scowled. "Only Addison doesn't know that Derek loves Addison. Addison is stupid."
Cristina frowned—she wouldn't necessarily call Dr. Montgomery stupid. She was brilliant, in fact. But she would have to agree with Meredith. Even a blind person could Derek wasn't over the redhead, but the redhead had either absolutely no clue, or gave absolutely no care.
"I hate Derek. Why does he always have to be the good guy?"
"That's what men are like sometimes," Cristina answered as if she were speaking to a child.
"I hate them all. Dr. Tyndall should stay the hell away from that mess, while he isn't too inve-invested. Invested," she settled. "Save himself the heartache. I should tell him."
Cristina considered that for a moment. "Tyndall will be fine, you don't need to worry about him. But you," she said, prying the bottle from Meredith's hand, "you will have to lay off the alcohol and go to bed."
"Cristinaaaaa," she whined, a futile attempt to reach for the bottle Cristina was holding away from her.
"No buts. I'm gonna get you some water and a Tylenol, but no more tequila for you," she said as she stood up, letting Meredith lie down on the couch.
"No more tequila for me," she murmured as she closed her eyes. "No more McDreamy for me."
"That's right. No more McDreamy for you," Cristina said, turning towards the kitchen to fetch Meredith a glass of water and be a good friend.
Derek had done it. Or rather, Meredith had done it for him. The dirty work. She had broken up with him soon after their fight, and he couldn't deny he was a little grateful. First, that she had taken the reins and done the deed herself. Second, because he didn't have to pretend to not be in love with someone else anymore. Not that he was pretending. And not that he was showing it either. But it was a relief in some way to be out of a relationship which had grown stale. It wasn't Meredith's fault. He had unwittingly dragged her into his own mess, and unintentionally hurt her, had given her false hope, reassured her there was nothing with Addison, when he should have known the moment Addison stepped foot in Seattle that he was a goner.
To be honest, he was the coward here. He was too afraid to hurt Meredith, not realizing he was hurting her more in the process. And he was too afraid to hurt himself. If he took a chance, if he told Addison, he wasn't sure he could survive it if she turned him down. After all, he had just barely survived the past 8 years.
It was true that Meredith had been different, that what he felt for her was the most he had felt for anyone since Addison. He wasn't lying to her when he said she was like coming up for fresh air. His heart had been broken in too many places, and Meredith had helped him piece some of it back together so it was still a semblance of a heart. But the effect Meredith had wasn't lasting, and it faded soon after it happened. A sugar rush. He wondered if it would have lasted longer if Addison didn't come to Seattle, if he could finally be successful in a relationship. But there was no use wondering that now.
Addison had told him in no unclear terms that she wanted things to work out between him and Meredith. She had tried to make herself scarce when Meredith was around, rallied behind the blonde when Nancy was in town, and tried as much as she could to make Meredith comfortable. There was no doubt in Derek's mind that Addison meant well, and that she genuinely wanted him to find happiness. Although that bit touched him, it also pained him. Addison was so ready to see him move on with someone else, which meant she had already moved on from him. And it was that realization that made his heart truly ache.
After Meredith broke up with him, he decided he needed some time to be by himself. He needed to sort through his emotions and see clearer. If he wanted a real fighting chance with Addie, he had to be fixed and mended and ready for a future that didn't dwell on the past.
Watching Meredith absolutely lose it in the hallway made Addison feel wretchedly uncomfortable. She couldn't believe what she had heard. And that, compounded with the ongoing fight she had with Derek where he essentially told her it was her fault they had broken up eight years ago made her feel one too many emotions to call herself stable.
It was bad enough that Derek had basically told her he was willing to fight and she walked away. It was bad enough to know that Derek carried that with him through the past years, a burden too heavy, without any absolution. But it was worse to know that she had a hand to play in his awkward missteps to mend his broken heart. She desperately wanted for Derek to be happy, and for a while it seemed Meredith was the answer. But to hear Meredith speak her name with so much disdain, knowing she was the reason Derek had pushed her away, made the guilt settle into her bones heavier than she expected.
She felt she owed it to Derek to make sure he was happy. He was right—she was the one who vehemently refused to try long distance, something which may or may not have kept them together. And after learning how Derek fared the years following the break up, she felt it was her job to make sure he found the happiness he desperately needed. So she supported his relationship with Meredith, helped find ways to keep her satisfied, not realizing that Derek's feelings for her were still ever present, and ever certain.
She would be lying if she said she didn't love him. A part of her always would, as cliché as that was. But after Matthew, she didn't think she had the right to still want him. She didn't have the right to love him, or to ask for his love. But all throughout her stay in Seattle, there was a magnetic pull, an invisible force, that drew her heart closer to Derek's. She pushed that away—she thought it was just the effect of having her heart broken after the divorce, and that she was just clinging on to the familiarity of Derek's presence, the comfort she got from his care. There were so many moments in the past few months that she thought more about Derek than she did about Matthew, so many times when she had to remind herself about where she and Derek stood. And for the most part, she was good at it. She knew how to rein in her emotions, where to stand, how to act, how to be. She wasn't a Montgomery for nothing. She and Derek were friends, and could only ever be friends, and that was that. She ignored the little spark igniting in her chest whenever she and Derek had a moment together, ignored the twinkle in Derek's eye and how that brought a spring to her step, and ignored the quiet voice in the back of her head that whispered almost slyly she was in Seattle at such an opportune time.
For the first time since she arrived in Seattle, she was finally ready to confront how she truly felt about Derek. At first, it was always clouded by visions of Matthew and their failed marriage, lightly sprinkled with thoughts of Derek only because they had to work out where they stood. They had purposely opened the Pandora's box of their relationship to find a healthy balance and gain closure. After that, she had shut the box closed and refused to face whatever it was she felt about Derek that still lingered in her subconscious. But now, after Derek's less than subtle confession and Meredith's public outburst, there was no choice but face it head on. Bravely. Confidently. Without bullshit and without pretense.
"You do realize it's 1am on this side of the country," said the voice from the other end of the phone, but she didn't sound mad. She had been up anyway, after having just put the little girl they had adopted from China down after a crying episode.
"Savvy."
"You okay, honey?" she answered with concern.
Addison sighed. "I dunno, am I?" she asked, cradling her phone with one hand and a glass of wine on the other, putting her feet up on the couch.
"What happened?"
"Derek happened."
"Oh," Savvy said sympathetically. "I knew it was going to be about Derek at some point."
Addison's brow furrowed at that. "What do you mean?"
"I mean—Matthew drove you all the way across the country, and across the country is where Derek is. I knew it was only a matter of time before you called and moaned about him." When Addison didn't respond, she continued. "What happened?" she repeated.
"We were getting along so well."
"So you said."
"And then we had a huge fight."
"About what?"
"At first it was about a colleague," Addison answered on a sigh, thinking back to that day in the stairwell. "He was being an asshole and I was putting him in his place."
"Uh-huh."
"And then it turned into this whole thing where he told me the break-up we had—eight years ago—wasn't mutual and that he wanted to make it work." She stressed the years, because it seemed ludicrous at this point to still be moaning about something that happened so long ago.
"Oh." If Savvy was surprised, it was truly more about the timing than anything. She was surprised Derek had held out that long. But was she surprised that the issue of eight years ago was still an issue now? Not in the slightest.
"Yeah, oh."
Savvy sighed. "Let me guess. It stirred up repressed feelings in you, too."
Addison sighed too. "Yeah," she said quietly, taking a sip of her wine. "But the plot thickens."
"I didn't know it could get any thicker," Savvy answered dryly. "It's condensed milk as it is right now."
Addison paused. "I told him that if he wanted us to be together, then he should have stayed," she said, a pinch of embarrassment in her tone. "God, I'm so stupid, Savvy. How could I have said that?"
Because it's the truth, Savvy wanted to say, but she held her tongue. "Oh Addie," she replied sympathetically. "You must have been so emotionally caught up if you said that."
"I was," Addison conceded. "I didn't expect his outburst, and I don't know. Something clicked. Like it was 1998 again and my fiancé had just blindsided me by choosing to go to Boston instead of staying in New York." She licked her lips. It was an unpleasant flashback that sent her reeling in more ways than one. "It gets worse though."
"Really?" Savvy replied, sounding shocked.
"Apparently, Derek wasn't winning any Best Boyfriend Awards, so Meredith freaking lost it in the middle of the hall the other day." She had told Savvy about Meredith before, and how she sincerely wished it would work out between the intern and Derek. "She's not my biggest fan."
"I can imagine," Savvy mused, having heard of Meredith before and being silently skeptical about Addison's determination to rally behind that relationship.
"I believe her exact words were… 'maybe, I should go out on a date with Dr. Tyndall, because that seems to send you into a blind rage. But wait, that won't work either, because I'm not Addison Montgomery'." She paused. "Or something like that," she chuckled. "I swear I have never heard my name spoken with so much disdain before."
Savvy was quiet for a moment, trying to process what Addison had just said. "It sounds like Meredith lost all her shit that day," she said slowly.
"She did," Addison confirmed, taking another sip of her wine.
"For nothing?" she asked, brow raised.
Addison paused. "I don't know," she replied uncertainly. "It could be nothing."
"Addison," Savvy warned. "After everything you just told me, you still think it could be nothing?"
"I just got out of a divorce," she answered defensively.
"I haven't heard you mention Matt in the last few times we've spoken," Savvy stated knowingly. "Don't use the divorce as an excuse."
Addison groaned. "This is why you're a damn good lawyer."
"You got that right," Savvy laughed. "But seriously. Addison, how could it be nothing?"
"Maybe because it's been 8 years?" Addison replied as if the answer was obvious.
Savvy shrugged as she cradled the phone to her ear. "Right now, you kind of remind me of Fermina and Florentino," she mused lightly.
"Who?" Addison asked in thorough confusion. "Sav. Who the hell are Fermina and Florentino?"
"You know, Love in the Time of Cholera?"
"Savvy," Addison replied tiredly. Gabriel Garcia Marquez probably wasn't going to be pleased with what was about to come.
But she was nonplussed. "Fermina and Florentino fall in love but they don't want the same things out of life, and she goes off to marry someone else. Urbino. But things weren't perfect with Urbino either, and all his life Florentino still loved Fermina, and you know, after a lot of sex and failed relationships, they ended up together."
"What? Are you saying—"
"It's not a perfect analogy," Savvy cut her off, "but yes, I'm saying you're Fermina and Derek is Florentino. And you married Urbino, but all this time Derek still loved you. They get together in the end. In old age," she explained on a laugh.
"Derek and I are not old," Addison protested, which was beside the point, but still.
"You're not," Savvy agreed. "But the point is—things take time. True love takes time."
Addison scowled at Savvy's cheesy observation. "When did you start being such a romantic?"
"I don't know," the blonde admitted. "But I just finished reading that book, and I think that it was precisely like you and Derek."
Addison seemed to consider this. "Did Fermina still love Florentino even when she was married to Urbino?" she asked curiously.
"She thought she didn't. But she did. She was happy with life with Urbino, but it didn't mean she didn't love Florentino too."
Addison was quiet. "You think… I still love Derek?"
"Honey, I know you still love him," she said frankly, not bothering to mince her words. This was Addison, and she knew Addie never appreciated it when people beat around the bush. "I won't deny you and Matthew were great together, and he was really good to you. And you were happy. But love is odd like that sometimes. We can be perfectly content and happy with one person, but it doesn't mean we can't feel anything else for other people, too."
"I'm not sure if I'm ready to concede to that right now," she admitted on a sigh. "Wouldn't that mean I was terribly unfair to Matt all these years?"
"No one's forcing you to admit it right now," she asserted. "You don't think you're ready for that—that's perfectly fine. But I think the only person you're shortchanging by denying it is yourself. Not Derek, not Matthew, not Meredith. Just you."
"Even if I still loved him, which I don't, I think- it doesn't mean I have to act on it though."
"Add, you can choose how you want to go forward. Whether you wanna do something about it is up to you. But haven't you wasted enough time not being true to yourself?" She paused. "I think this is precisely Matt's revelation. That he was done wasting time and pretending to be someone he wasn't. It sucks that it came at your expense, but now he's living his truth and I know you're glad he is. He wasn't being entirely fair to you either, when he married you even if he had his doubts, but he took the matter into his own hands and fixed it. Maybe it's about time you took a page out of his book and started being truthful to yourself, too."
"Sav… he's not the same Derek. These days, he sulks. He's moody when he doesn't get his way. He disrespects colleagues and isn't as dreamy as these people make him out to be. I don't know if, if I still love him, that I love him for who he is right now, or for who he was when we were together."
Derek had never been the most mature apple in the batch, but he wasn't all that bad. "I don't know about you, Addison, but it sounds to me like Derek's attitude is reactive. He's reacting. He's not really thinking. The way you describe him seems an awful lot like he's going through a tough time. And people react differently when things are tough."
"I don't want to have to deal with all of that."
Savvy shrugged. "That's your choice. But the fact is the same. You still have feelings for the guy, and he obviously still has feelings for you. You have the capacity to pull him out of his… funk… and how you do it is up to you."
"Who says I wanna be responsible for that?" Derek was a grown man. He should be able to take care of himself. He didn't need anyone to pick up the pieces behind him, and Addison wasn't willing to be a punching bag.
"Hate to break it to you sister, but you already are. I think we can safely conclude that he's being a jerk because he's still in love with you. So really, you're already responsible. And you can deal with it one of two ways: you can admit to yourself and to him that you still love him and you go riding into the sunset," she said. "Or… you can talk to him point blank, tell him he's being an asshole and you won't tolerate it, and proceed to pretending you're not in love with him too."
Addison scowled. "There's a third option which you've conveniently left out."
"Which is?"
"To do nothing. Ignore."
"Ignore the problem and hope it goes away?" Savvy asked skeptically.
"When children throw tantrums, you're supposed to ignore them," she pointed. "Because the more attention you give them, the more likely the tantrum will last."
Savvy laughed. "You literally just compared Derek to a child having tantrums."
"He is a child throwing a tantrum," Addison exclaimed exasperatedly. "And I can choose to ignore it."
"But you don't want to ignore it. If you did, you wouldn't be calling me at this ungodly hour and drinking a glass or ten of wine."
"Hey!"
"Don't lie to me Addison Montgomery. I know there's a glass of wine in your hand and it probably isn't your first."
"It's my third," she admitted sheepishly.
"Told you," Savvy grinned. "You don't want to ignore it. And you can't. You're being unfair to both of you by not sorting it out. That fight won't fix itself. You'll have to talk. You never sweep things under the rug, Addie. Why start now?"
It was true. Addison never did sweep anything under the rug. She was always a go-getter—chose to confront things rather than pretend they didn't exist. She was strong-willed and determined and never liked skirting around issues. So why did she want to hide from this thing with Derek? What was she afraid of?
"Because I don't need all this drama in my life," Addison replied dryly. "Really. My life could be a lot less uneventful."
"Where's the fun in that?" Savvy teased.
"There's no fun in anything," she admitted. "Derek has always been a complicated matter. Even more complicated now. It's making my head hurt."
Savvy hummed thoughtfully. "Addie. Sort things out within yourself first. And then decide what you wanna do. It doesn't have to be complicated."
Addison played around with Savvy's words in her head, turned them over and out trying to decide what she wanted to do.
"Just… be fair to yourself, Add," she reminded softly.
AN. OKAY! So that was September. Things have come to a head. It's shorter than the previous chapters but I think a lot of drama happens that the length might be justified. Lol. Thank you for reading this far. It's been quite a journey for Addison and Derek. Derek is is his usual ass* self, and Addison is her usual flustered on the inside but immaculate on the outside. Please let me know what you think! I don't know when I'll be able to update again- we've been getting some stocks of the vaccines and we're working hard to inoculate all of them as fast as possible (let's end this pandemic already pls!). I'll try to get it up as soon as I can. Thank you and stay safe!