Kind of a long one (I did not plan for that to happen), but hey, we all could use a brief escape from this week, right?

I have fudged with a few timelines, because if it's good enough for Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice writers to do pretty liberally, it's good enough for me. :) The same is true with ages, because Amelia is truly the ageless wonder and I also don't want to waste time tearing my hair out from trying to take a stab at the ages and birth order of Derek's non-Amelia sisters? And there's also been some playing around with the "happenings" in Addison's immediate family. That's probably only significant though if you watched Private Practice all the way through – certain childhood scenes and questionable parenting techniques are pulled from dialogue in the show (referenced in the notes at the end). Also, the flashbacks are not all necessarily in order, but hopefully it's not too confusing to follow.

Oh AND. I'm always bad about this part, so I'll try to remember going forward:

Fic Title: comes from "Atlas," a series of EPs by Sleeping At Last.

Chapter 2 title: Lyrics from "Pale September," Fiona Apple.

. .
. .

Chapter 2. Only Hollow Rhythms

Addison's parents thought she was going to be a boy. They spent most of Bizzy's second pregnancy vacationing throughout Europe, and while they didn't bother with much prenatal care, even in the absence of visible proof (namely, an ultrasound), they were convinced Addison was a boy. Bizzy and the Captain already had Archer Aldridge. Their second son would be just sixteen months younger: Addison Adrian. Another Double A.

It always seemed ridiculous to Addison (adult, female Addison) that, in the occasional retelling of this story, her parents never seemed to seriously consider that, sure, there was a chance they were right, but there was also a (fifty percent) chance they were wrong. Ridiculous. And remarkably stupid, even though her parents, by definition of being WASPs, were used to getting everything they wanted. So, Addison being a girl was a surprise. Not necessarily an unwelcome surprise, but a surprise all the same. Bizzy and the Captain only had to make a slight tweak to her name: Addison Adrianne. Their last child. They only wanted to be parents to two.

Addison was a toddler when she realized not all mothers are called Bizzy, and Bizzy isn't really another name for "mother." In a lot of ways – the ways that count for something, at least – Bizzy isn't a mother at all. She isn't a friend though, either. More like a distant, snobby aunt you are forced to tolerate at Thanksgiving because you share blood. Bizzy once claimed she "asks very little of her children." Addison as an adult would like to have a word about this (if she felt there would be a point, which there truly isn't). As would Addison as a child, in retrospect.

Especially Addison as a child.

..
..

Twenty-Seven Years Earlier

"Remember to use your whole body! You're tap dancers, not just tappers!" Mrs. Sobel calls out to her students this afternoon as they transition into their next exercise. "Watch Addie's arms next time during double shuffles. And she's also managing to keep her sounds smaller between first and last brush. Some of you need to work on that."

Such praise makes ten year-old Addison blush. She likes being the best and wants to be recognized for her hard work, yes, but she doesn't really want to be called out like that. It's now her third year at Mrs. Sobel's Dance Academy. She rushes on occasion, like they all do, but for the most part, she has learned to slow down and produce clean sounds that flow with the rhythm of the music. Bizzy will be delighted to hear this feedback from Mrs. Sobel. Delighted – that will be the word she uses, Addison is certain. It's different than feeling proud. And Addison knows a lot about the word different.

The Montgomery siblings are quite different from each other. Archer is confident and outgoing. He is a good, protective big brother most of the time, so score another for the positive category there, but he is also a lazy, disruptive student (typically a recipient of the unoriginal "needs to apply himself" comment on report cards), a bit of a bully, is downright rude to their cook sometimes, and often butts heads with their father.

Addison isn't like that at all. She is quiet, good, "a complete joy" to have as a student, and well-behaved. She somehow seems to cause trouble for Bizzy just by existing though. Her mother loves her, of that Addison feels mostly certain, but she doesn't seem to like her. And it is always something. Bizzy is a picker with Addison. She picks at Addison's flaws, or perceived flaws. Addison is bad about making eye contact. She slouches while walking. She doesn't position her napkin properly when dabbing at her mouth. She once yawned at the dinner table (made worse because they had guests). She is a baby about horseback riding. She is also a baby about the dark and tight spaces. She has hands like a boy (if that really is the case, what is she expected to do about this?). She makes "sloppy" flower arrangements (as would most ten years olds, assuming they make flower arrangements in the first place). She is too loud when playing inside. She is too loud when playing outside. She rushes through her steps while dancing – apparently not today though.

The Level Three class is working through second position arms and other simple hand, flicker-ish movements at the moment. This, Addison has always been able to do with ease – she's quite dexterous – despite the fact that Bizzy once said, apropos of nothing, that Addison has "big, peasant hands" (but then again, perhaps Addison's alleged boy hands were always on her mother's mind). Addison thinks about this odd comment while working through a series of Port de Bras exercises (Hayes Lohr, one of only two boys in the class, once had to be excused because he laughed himself silly upon hearing the word bra).

And then Addison thinks about the permission slip tucked neatly inside her backpack. She likes dancing, and she likes Mrs. Sobel and the other instructors, but she figures she has to drop something in order join the baton team her school is forming for the fourth and fifth graders. The uniforms are cute and the batons are sparkly.

She's not a quitter. Well, she is going to be in this case, but baton twirling won't start for a few more weeks and Addison is at least willing to dance at the fall recital, to see the commitment all the way through. She talks to Bizzy about wanting to stop tapping, and her mother doesn't seem to mind much at first. Addison has piano and tennis, and Math Olympiad and French lessons. And Bizzy would still like her daughter to learn a string instrument within the next year. Fine. This is enough. But then Addison explains what she wants to do instead. Absolutely not, Bizzy says, which shocks Addison; she demands to know why.

"Because it's trashy."

"But, Bizzy -"

"This isn't up for discussion, dear. You're not joining the baton team and that's final. If you want to throw away all your tap dancing lessons, fine, but over my dead body will you twirl a baton."

"I hate you," Addison snarls. She stands there defiantly, the bun she carefully pinned in place before dance class now starting to unravel.

"Fine," her mother replies calmly. As though it doesn't matter at all. "Go start your homework. Denise will be back any minute with Archer."

In that moment, Addison was a typical child scrambling to find words as dramatic as possible. It would be years before the hate she actually felt became less passive, less equivocal. Yes, she loves her mother, but she hates her, too. Same with her father. Love is complicated in the case of Montgomerys. Archer once said their family is like a bad Russian novel.

Bizzy is cold and withholding. She was that way then, and she is that way now. But she's also weak, Addison feels. Why else would she have stayed by the Captain's side all these years, putting up with all those affairs? It's desperate and pathetic. Yes, Addison would ultimately come to understand that there are two sides to every story has always applied to her parents, but still. Her mother chose to stay. No one forced her to.

I will never, ever be anything like you, Addison thought that day as a ten year-old.

Funny how things change when you grow up though. Addison knows this now. In some ways, everyone eventually becomes the person they promised themselves they'd never be.

. .
. .

Addison and Mark dump their bags in the entrance of the Montgomery-Shepherd home, and then head back outside. They decided when traffic slowed to a yawn along the LIE that the first thing they wanted to do upon reaching the Hamptons was stretch their legs. Mark is moving in Addison's shadow, trailing behind her as she walks towards the end of the cul-de-sac in the direction of the beach. He slowed his steps with the intent to give her some privacy as soon as Addison announced she was going to give Derek a quick call to let him know they've arrived safely.

Addison and Derek bought their Hamptons home a little over four years ago. It wasn't exactly Derek's thing, real estate in the Hamptons, but he loved Addison and was willing to go along with her desire for a home on the East End that they could escape to from time to time. While Addison leaves a voicemail for Derek and waves distractedly to a neighbor on the other side of the road, she thinks about the experience of buying this home. They purchased it for several reasons, but none of the reasons ended up being because of their agent touting it as "an ideal setting for social and family gatherings." They giggled behind Barb's back at the clichéd phrases she used. Addison even remembers their exact exchange before they decided to put in an offer.

Derek had shaken his head as soon as their agent was out of ear shot. "'Raving about the potential for 'gatherings' makes me think of House Hunters when the couple is super unlikable and they're whining about how the last place they were shown doesn't have enough room for entertaining."

"Right?" Addison replied. "Like, no one is coming over to hang out with you, Karen. Because you suck."

She blinks the memory away and glances over at Mark, who has caught up with her again now that she's pushed her phone back in her pocket. "That was Tessa," she tells him, referring to the woman she waved to. She and Tessa exchanged a look while she was on the phone that indicated they would catch up soon (probably over drinks), but Addison definitely noticed how quickly Tessa's eyes and veneers-shiny smile drifted in Mark's direction. "She lives a few houses down. I'll introduce you tomorrow."

"What's her deal?"

"Her deal," Addison repeats drily. God, she's so glad she doesn't have to date anymore, or do, well, whatever it is Mark does. It just seems exhausting. "She's married – in name, at least. Tessa and her husband live here year-round, but they have property in the city as well. That's where the husband is most of the time, actually. He's the CEO of something. Last time I talked to her, they were very, very much on the rocks. The husband is kind of an ass. Tessa is nice though. I'm sure you two would get along well. Just, you know. There's the whole marriage thing."

"And what does Married Tessa do?"

"Nothing. I guess you could say Tessa's a homemaker…but a homemaker with a chef, house cleaner, gardener, and once-a-week masseuse. She's not much for volunteering or philanthropy stuff, which, no judgment, but that's typically what the housewives up here do if they don't have kids or don't work outside the home. Mostly Tessa is involved in the nightlife scene, especially while Hal – the husband – is in the city. Hal is a jerk though and I doubt they share a bedroom when he's here, so. Anyway. Do with that information what you will. Just know that I'm pretty sure Hal has guns."

"Good to know. Man, she's basically a stay-at-home person. That sounds kind of ideal from time to time. What is it Derek calls these women again?"

"Privileged Patties," Addison tells him. Her husband is not wrong there. And of course Addison knows a thing or two or twenty-five million dollars' worth about privilege.

. .
. .

Fourteen Years Earlier

Addison meets Derek's mother and sisters for the first time a few days before Christmas. She and Derek have been dating for a year (and three months) at this point. Med school has kept them busy – they have just finished fall term of their second year – but for all the grumbling Derek has done before about how nosy and annoying his sisters can be, he really, really wants Addison to come home with him over winter break. She is expected (Derek used to laugh when she used this word, but it made a hell of a lot more sense once he met her parents) to be in Connecticut for Christmas Day, but Derek talks her into coming upstate with him first. Kathleen is bringing her fiancé and Nancy is bringing her boyfriend, so if they are bringing people, it made sense in a way for Derek to bring his girlfriend, especially since they are serious. And at any rate, it cuts down on the amount of days Addison will have to spend with Bizzy and the Captain.

Carolyn Shepherd seems nice enough. Addison says how lovely it is to meet her, while holding a hand out (she had an internal freak-out regarding whether or not to go in for the hug, but WASP-ness won out and she went with a three-pumps handshake). Carolyn accepts the bottle of wine Addison brings as a gift and seems to express gratitude (Addison confirmed with Derek ahead of time that his mother likes wine, but she instantly felt stupid for going with a Bordeaux that doesn't quite belong in this Zip Code). And Addison can tell Carolyn appreciates that her daughters seem to like Addison – Amy in particular is utterly charmed by Addison, and preteen Amy isn't really charmed by anyone. But Carolyn doesn't really like her. Or doesn't like her for Derek, maybe.

Addison and Derek come from different backgrounds, yes, but Addison still feels there is enough of a Venn diagram overlap that makes them compatible. They are both hard workers. They are kind, intelligent, and find a lot of the same things funny. They like the same TV shows and have pretty comparable lists of books they've read. They love school – they are complete and utter nerds for science. They have bonded over high school band memories (Derek: saxophone; Addison: violin), older siblings who can't mind their own business, and the fact that they are late bloomers in everything from relationships to love to hair products (Derek) and braces-free smiles (Addison). Derek has told her that he feels like he can really, really talk with her about his dad, and about anything, really – he doesn't feel that way with most people. And they like each other. Love each other. Doesn't that count for something? What mother wouldn't want that sort of happiness for her son?

"Hey." Mark pushes open the sliding door and joins Addison out on the back porch. "Out here alone?"

"Yeah. Just taking a quick breather. I told Derek I was going to call Bizzy to check in." She gives Mark a friendly smile and takes a hand off the top of the deck railing to wave him over. A breather. Derek's sisters are lovely, but loud and talkative. Also, Addison is allowed to take breaks because despite her repeated offers to help with lunch, Carolyn has insisted she's a guest and doesn't have to help. And Addison doesn't feel comfortable enough to insist that she can and should help.

"Same here." Mark lightly bumps her arm with his elbow. "You took my spot, you know."

"Did we have the same childhood that makes it so that we need breathers when we're around loving, functional families?" It's mostly a rhetorical question, so Mark just tightly smiles his answer. Addison knows and Mark knows she knows. She has learned a bit about his lonely childhood in the past year (more from talking to Derek than from talking to Mark about it though). And said childhood is why Mark is here at the moment – not just in the backyard, but here. Like Addison, he is putting off going to his parents' house for as long as he can.

Addison inhales slowly, but can't seem to shake the feeling of heaviness that has been lingering in her stomach all morning. "I don't think Carolyn likes me very much," she tells Mark.

"Nah, I doubt that's true. She's just protective of her kids. Derek in particular, since he's the only boy. And the Golden Child and all."

"She thinks I'm rich and privileged."

"You are rich and privileged. But, hey – I grew up that way, too, and she likes me."

"But you're not having sex with her son. Just her son's sisters…"

"That's true. Wait…" Mark's cheeks flood with color. Addison said the second part so quietly that he almost missed it. "Which one told you?"

"No one. Just a lucky – though entirely reasonable – guess. If someone had told me though, I would hope it would have been Kathleen or Nancy. Not Lizzie." Addison raises an eyebrow. Liz is still in high school. And Amy, the baby of the family, is only twelve.

"Of course that's the case – damn, give me a little credit. I'm not a predator. Anyway, it was a few years ago. And, uh, Derek doesn't know about the…encounters with Nancypants and Kate. So -"

"Yeah, I definitely won't be sharing this information with him. It'll be our little secret."

Mark chuckles. "Our very, very dirty secret," he says. This makes her laugh, too.

. .
. .

Addison is spirited away from her memories of that Christmas when she feels a nudge against her shoulder. Mark asks if she wants to head back to the house. It's starting to get cold, and the pastel oranges and yellows of sunset are giving way to darkness. The last few lingering boats are slipping back into the harbor.

"Yeah," she answers. "We should head back. Sorry…I was zoning out there for a sec. I promise I'll be better company. But…" she manages a small grin. "One of the things I was thinking is that it's funny seeing you in sandals."

"Genuine question: what did you think I was going to wear to the beach, Red? Dress shoes and a leather jacket?"

She laughs. It surprises her, sometimes, that she still can. "I guess not."

Yes, she is rich and privileged. She works hard though and the fact that she has enough board certifications to give a woman a pap smear, operate on said woman's uterus, and perform surgery on said woman's baby before and after the baby is born – only eight people in the world can do all of what Addison does – this is a testament to her work-ethic and brilliance. But, it is certainly not lost on Addison that when she was born, she was already standing on third base, and there was no pitcher to hold her on the bag.

She's rich in many things, but these days, love is not one of them.

And being privileged doesn't necessarily eliminate loneliness and pain.

. .
. .

Thirty Years Earlier

No one can hear you. No one is going to come save you.

Addison shakes her head, trying to make the voice in her head stop talking, stop engulfing her with fear. "Cosy! Cosy! Cooooosy!" She tries again, but her efforts seem pointless; she has screamed herself hoarse. It seems like it's been hours, but she tells herself it's probably only been minutes since Patch coaxed her into her parents' wine cellar and then shut and locked the door behind her. Has anyone even discovered she's missing yet though? Cosy will notice, she has to notice. But how long will that take?

There aren't any choices for Addison besides screaming and banging on the insulated door though. The room is starting to feel smaller. It doesn't normally feel small, but maybe the darkness is making it smaller. Because it is so dark. There's not any light in here other than what Addison can spy under the door frame, and the slight sheen coming off the wine bottles positioned on the iron racks. Tilted on their sides, the bottles almost look like ships floating in the Sound. That's it though. The ceiling light works off a pull chain, and Addison is only seven. She is not tall enough to reach it.

Stupid Patch Gold. This is all his fault. The three of them (because Archer was nice enough to let Addison spend time with them; he doesn't always do this when he has friends over) have been playing hide-and-seek. Archer was the seeker, and Patch convinced Addison to hide with him in the basement. He said they should hide in that room over there – and Addison knew he meant the cellar. They walked over together, and just as she was about to warn him not to touch any bottles (her parents would have been furious), he shoved her into the darkness and slammed the door on her. Addison could hear his sneaky laugh as he ran back up the basement stairs. If Archer has found him by now, Patch has probably just said Addison doesn't want to play anymore and went to her room. Archer will believe that, and won't think to look for her.

"Cosy!" Addison wails again. She thinks she maybe hears movement on the stairs – a clopping sound that makes her think of the horses on their estate – but she isn't sure if it's real or if she's just hoping it's real because she is so scared. Addison knows from stories and movies and from real life that a lot of little kids cry out for their mommies and daddies when they get hurt. Addison knows if she really were hurt or in danger Daddy or Bizzy would help her, but neither would ever be her first choice when she needs a grown up. No. That would be Cosy.

Addison is convinced that her current nanny will be her favorite nanny forever and ever. Cosy. Yes, Cosy is definitely Addison's favorite nanny. And she's also the one who has been here the longest. She arrived when Addison was around five and-a-half (after Sandra was dismissed; Addison would find out later that although Bizzy did the "letting go," it was the Captain's fault Sandra was asked to leave).

Cosy is a nickname. Addison thinks it's pretty. She also thinks it's interesting that Cosy's name can be something, like an adjective – she is learning about those in second grade right now. It's like Bizzy in that way. And it fits. Bizzy really is busy and Cosy really is cozy.

Cosy also doesn't hover – Addison likes this about her. She's involved with the kids, yes, but she also gives them space, especially when they have friends over. Which is exactly why the thing with the cellar was able to happen. Cosy was on the phone when they started playing hide-and-seek. She is close with her mother, Addison knows. And now the cellar is where Addison will be trapped forever. But then – oh. That was Cosy on the stairs, because Addison can hear Cosy's voice now and then suddenly the cellar door is being flung open.

"Addie!" Cosy reaches out for her, and Addison starts to cry harder in relief. "There you are. Oh, Addie…" Cosy scoops her up in her arms, even though Addison is much too big to be carried around like a baby. "It's okay, sweetheart. Everything is okay now."

"It was Patch. Patch shut me – Patch…" Addison tries to explain as Cosy carries her back up the stairs. "Patch and Archie and me were -"

"I know. I'll talk with them both. Patch shouldn't have done this. I'm so sorry for how scary this must have been for you. And I'll see who I can talk to about getting that door fixed. Doors like that should lock from the inside, not the outside."

"I love you, Addie," Cosy whispers softly when they're seated on the sofa. Addison is curled up in her lap, and Cosy doesn't say anything about the fact that her feet are on the sofa – Bizzy would be mad if she saw this. But Addison's heart flutters when Cosy tells her that she's loved. No one ever says this to her. It's implied, but rarely said.

"What happened?" Archer appears in the drawing room. "Why is Addie crying?"

And once Cosy tells Archer why his little sister is crying, everything happens so fast. Archer runs out of the room and punches Patch in the face, making him cry. Bizzy arrives home from her Chamber of Commerce meeting early – and Patch is bleeding and crying, Addison is still sniffling, Archer is standing there with his fists clenched and a face that indicates he has zero regrets about decking his friend, and poor Cosy is frantically trying to stop the blood dripping from Patch's nose while keeping an eye on Archer and Addison.

The whole incident, in Bizzy's words, was shameful. The Golds are not happy that their son was punched, but once Cosy – with some indignant input from Addison before Bizzy shoos her away – explained what happened, they seem to understand. That was not good enough for Bizzy though. Something needed to be done. Bizzy asks Addison where Cosy was when everything was going on, and Cosy gives Addison a little nod, as if to say, it's okay, just tell her the truth. So Addison does, even though she knows it sounds bad: Cosy was on the phone while we were playing. It was just me and Patch in the basement. And then Bizzy tells Cosy she is dismissed – she has a week to move out and she will be compensated through the end of the following month, but her services as Archer and Addison's nanny are no longer needed.

Addison is devastated. She blames Archer, who, to his credit, genuinely does feel bad. He says Patch deserved to be punched for scaring her like that, but he wouldn't have punched Patch if he knew this would be the end result.

Three days later, Cosy tells Addison she loves her and will miss her and that none of this is her fault. And then she hands the little girl a scrap of paper with her phone number on it. She tells Addison she can call her anytime she wants.

The next nanny, Ellen, is nice. She plays board games with Addison once she's done with French lessons, and draws little faces on the bananas she puts in Addison's lunch. She's not Cosy though, and Addison doesn't reach the level of closeness with Ellen prior to her departure (another fault of the Captain) that she reached with Cosy. She'll never have that again with one of her nannies. She can't even remember the name of the very last nanny she had. Something with a G or a J. Addison was twelve or so when that nanny left (of her own accord, as far as she knows), and Bizzy did not hire another one. The kids were old enough now to mind and entertain themselves, and Bizzy could always use the older daughters of friends of hers if rides to activities or an evening sitter was needed.

Bizzy found the scrap of paper Cosy gave Addison, and threw it away. So what was the point of getting close with one of the other nannies then? They could be cast away so easily.

And it turns out you can also lose the people you love when you tell the truth.

. .
. .

Nineteen Years Earlier

Eleven years after Addison is trapped in a wine cellar by Patch Gold, she loses her virginity to him. She went to prom with his younger brother, Skippy (Phillip), who, thankfully, was just as awkward and shy as she was. Addison's dress was flattering and she was starting to grow into her figure a bit more, but she still had braces and the subtle lisp and not-terrible-but-not-great self-esteem. And they talked about Star Wars the whole night: not exactly a recipe for steamy romance. But shortly before high school graduation, the braces come off and reveal a beautiful smile. And then more changes follow that summer: Addison gets to rid herself of her Carrington Prep uniform and shapeless marching band uniform in favor of tight jeans; she finds a hairstyle that works for her (yes, it was bitchy when Bizzy said that "bangs aren't for everyone," but she was sort of right); she's gotten better at finding ways to keep the conversation going after initial greetings are exchanged; she realizes that talking to boys isn't as scary as she thought it was; and she has time to slow down and have fun because she no longer has to go one-hundred miles an hour with extracurricular activities and prep courses and volunteering to pad those college applications (she broke her father's heart by selecting Columbia over Yale and thus bucking a long line of Montgomerys who were Bulldogs, but it was definitely the right choice for her, and she can just feel the tension draining from her shoulders at the thought of not having to live in the same state as her parents).

Mostly though, as shallow as it is, Addison has become pretty. Hot, even. The slightly awkward duckling with gangly limbs and a metal mouth has turned into a really, really attractive swan with toned legs that go on for days. And though it shouldn't matter at all, Addison doesn't want to go off to college a virgin. She's done some things, and dated a little bit her junior and senior year (the band guys she's been with are nothing if not persistent), but she views her virginity as something to check off the list. So when Patch stops by to drop off some donations from his mother for whatever Bizzy's latest charity is, and it works out that Addison's parents are gone for the night and Archer is at Yale for the summer taking an Evolutionary Biology course, she decides today is the day. And she has to invite Patch in for a drink to escape the heat anyway – it's only good manners.

"So…" Addison states a few hours later when Patch joins her on her bed after a fair amount of physical activity on her parents' imported chaise lounge. There is a boy on her bed – a very cute boy who apparently wants to see her naked – which is truly something to marvel over, but she also finds herself thinking about the fact that the comforter spread neatly beneath them is so frilly and she really needs to get more grownup bedding when she heads to Columbia at the end of next month. "You're not going to trap me in here, right?"

"Oh." Patch looks disappointed by her question, but is quickly able to adjust his face, as well as his expectations. His words are mostly gracious when he speaks. "No. Of course not. Sorry, I thought…do you not want to…?"

"I was joking," Addison quickly clarifies. "Don't you remember locking me in my parents' wine cellar when we were little?" She giggles as she watches Patch – he actually goes by his full name now, Patrick, which feels funny to her for some reason – seem to think this over. His expression indicates that although this sounds like something he would have done, it isn't ringing a bell. "And don't you remember my brother punching you in the face?"

"Honestly, Addie, I've been punched more than once. I was a pretty obnoxious little kid. The most punch-able kid in the universe, probably."

"Well, we're not little kids now." Addison dislikes herself for saying this. It's cheesy.

It doesn't seem to bother Patch-Patrick though. "No," he murmurs, guiding a bra strap down her shoulder and pressing his mildly-chapped lips to her neck. "Definitely not."

. .
. .

"I can go pick up the food if you want," Mark offers. "It's on the left once I get past the fish market, right?" Addison called a local seafood restaurant to place an order for dinner a few minutes ago, and Mark gets the sense that she would probably like to unpack, or at least not climb back into the car just yet. And she likely wants to try to call Derek again.

Addison flashes him a grateful smile at this suggestion. "That would be great. Thank you, Mark. And, yes. That's where it is. Just don't let the ferryboats distract you."

"Ferryboats are Derek's thing, not mine."

"You tend to like a lot of the same things though. And if you want to fall madly in love with ferryboats, I'm okay with that…provided you get back here with my pan-seared scallops, first. You really don't mind going alone though?"

"No, it's fine." He reaches for the keys. "It's a quick drive. Just have another beer ready for me. And think of things I can talk about with Married Tessa tomorrow."

"I'm pretty sure you don't need my help with the ladies!" Addison calls back. He has reached the front door by this point, and does some sort of gesture over his shoulder that gives her John Bender vibes.

Addison gets another beer for Mark and then slinks her fingertips along the rack in search of a Barolo. Wine racks always make her think of Cosy. She still remembers her response the first time Cosy told her she loved her: "Oh. You do? I mean…I love you, too." She used this same exact wording when Derek told her he loved her for the first time. Derek laughed at what she said, and then kissed her deeply. He thought it was sweet. Addison could feel her heart pounding in her chest between kisses. He loved her. She was loved.

When her first year of residency at New York Hospital was winding down, Addison called in sick one day. Richard Webber, a mentor of hers, tricked her the day before with a baby who died on her watch. It's a lesson, Addison is told, because she gets too attached to her patients and needs to learn distance. It's a cruel, cruel thing to do though, and she doesn't speak to Richard for nearly a year afterwards. Derek was supportive of her taking a day off. He stroked her hair and assured her it wasn't going to affect her negatively. And he said Addison was doing the rest of the interns a favor, really – she was universally adored by the attendings and more seasoned residents. Maybe someone else could finally take the top spot, he joked, which made her giggle.

And for some reason that day she found herself thinking about Cosy. She pulled out her laptop and tried to look her up. It took a while, because she couldn't remember Cosy's actual name, and she wasn't sure she ever even knew her surname. And she didn't have a phone number, of course. Bizzy made sure of that. Eventually though, Addison's internet sleuthing proved successful. Constance. She thought again of adjectives. Constance "Cosy" Messina.

Addison really did believe she killed that baby with the restrictive atrial septum. It turned out she was just trying to save someone who was already gone. She was disappointed to discover that Cosy died a few years before she thought to look her up. Per the obituary in the Hartford Courant Addison found, her former nanny died from complications of ovarian cancer. Cosy was only forty-seven. Addison wondered, perhaps naively, if she could have saved her. She at least would have liked to have seen the scans.

Eight years after Addison found out about Cosy's death, Bizzy's best friend and social secretary – Susan Grant – died of the same thing. Addison was almost thirty-five at the time. Her instinct is still to cut and she is a world-renowned surgeon who isn't necessarily opposed to taking risks, but she is also realistic. The earnestness that buoyed her through medical school and the earlier years of her residency just isn't there anymore, or at least does not fly as prevalently. She ran tests and determined Susan's cancer had spread to her liver and major vessels. Her mother apparently "asks very little of her children" though, and with Susan's agreement, Addison did try to do more than just make Susan comfortable. In a way, it once again felt like trying to save someone who was already gone though. And Susan's death nearly destroyed Bizzy.

Well, no. That's not exactly what happened. Or how it happened.

. .
. .

Some references:

Carolyn Shepherd didn't like Addison. She "hated" her :( (PP 2x16)

Bizzy wouldn't let Addison do baton (PP 4x16).

Addison did three years of tap at Mrs. Sobel's Dance Academy and can do a mean shuffle (PP 6x01).

The Richard Webber lesson thing (that Addison later does on Izzie): (Grey's 2x11)

Addison went to prom with Skippy Gold. She had braces and a lisp and they talked about Star Wars the whole time (Grey's 2x27).

Archer describes their family as a "bad Russian novel" (PP 4x14)

Re: "big, peasant hands." Kate Walsh once described her hands that way in an interview for Redbook and I just? When I tell you how hard I laughed – she is just a delightful human. Anyway. Thanks for following along!