A/N: This story will be Derek and Addison end game. It is heavy material, but with hurt comes lots of comfort in this story. Enjoy!

TW vague description of sexual assault. Skip paragraph with (*) to avoid.

Christmas night

Strings of red and green lights hung around the framework of Joe's bar and a small Christmas tree stood upright in the corner. The sound of Christmas music and the low hum of murmur around Addison and Derek made the room feel cozy, almost like back home in the big city.

The lights danced around Addison's face, causing her to look even more jubilant than she already was. He didn't want to deflate her mood or to change the atmosphere, but he had an undeniable urge to be honest with her. He couldn't live a lie anymore.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you or to leave you because I don't want to." A momentary look of worry and confusion flashed across Addison's face. He met her eye. "Meredith wasn't a fling."

Addison straightened her back, absorbing the unexpected confession like the absorption of a sting from being slapped hard across the face.

"She wasn't revenge. I fell in love with her." He studied the toes of his boots then, unable to look his wife in the eye any longer. "That doesn't go away because I decided to stay with you," he finished.

Addison looked him over as a sick feeling settled deep in the pit of her stomach. Despite thinking she had won and feeling elated over the idea of working things out with Derek, the realization hit her that she had in fact already lost.

She pushed the barstool back hurriedly, causing the wooden legs to squeal against the hardwood floor. "I think- I think I should go."

"Addison, wait." Derek stood and reached for her arm.

She tugged it away and picked up her coat. "No, I really should go. I'll see you at hom- at the trailer," she quickly corrected.

The sick feeling crept up, crawling its way through her body, and gathering at the base of her throat. She was finding it more and more difficult to make words without the threat of choking out a sob.

She fumbled with her wallet, withdrawing a $20 bill, and tossing it on the table before stumbling out of the front door.

"Addison," Derek called after her. But the clanging of chimes indicated that the door had already closed.

Her heel snagged the first crevice in the sidewalk before she had even taken two steps out of Joe's bar. Addison rested against the light pole to investigate the damage done to her Jimmy Choos. No scuffs. Onward, she thought.

She made her way down the sidewalk, on the hunt for another bar that offered peace from the people she worked with and the person she lived with. Her and Derek's conversation at Joe's had officially driven her to drink.

Ahead, neon beer signs shined like a beacon of hope and Addison moved as quickly as her four-inch heels would allow.

Three drinks later and the world finally seemed a little brighter and a little funnier. It had somehow become funny to her that her marriage had died like an ember slowly burning out. Sure, Derek had entertained her with the idea that he chose to stay with her and work things out. But the conversation she had just had with him led her to believe he had no intention of working on things. How ironic, how Derek of him. His heart now lied with the slutty, blonde intern. She laughed to herself as tears shown in her eyes.

She took a gulp of her gin and tonic, reveling in the delayed burn and scratchiness in her throat.

"That's one way to celebrate Christmas." A deeply tanned man strode up to the barstool next to hers and took his place comfortably there. He gave her a crooked grin and motioned to the bartender. "Double scotch please."

"Hm," Addison looked him over. "Same drink as my husband."

"Oh, so there's a husband." He gladly accepted his drink in exchange for a crisp bill before turning to face her.

"There is, I think." She cracked a sad smile and took another swig, squinting one eye shut as it burned all the way down.

The man studied her carefully before turning back to face the TV mounted on the wall. "You think?"

"It's complicated," she offered after a sudden hiccup.

"Well, I should say so. A husband letting his beautiful wife drink alone at the bar on Christmas?"

Addison shrugged. "I guess I'm not drinking alone now. And if we're being honest here, I'm not innocent in how I ended up in this bar alone tonight."

This seemed to pique his interest. He gestured for the bartender again. "We need two shots over here."

Addison laughed openly. "No, I don't need any shots, trust me. I should probably be heading back actually."

He gripped the back of her stool and leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Oh, come on now. Running back to the husband that ditched you on Christmas? One shot. On me." He squinted his eyes and shook a finger at her jokingly. "You deserve to enjoy Christmas, if only a little bit. Let me help you out."

Addison paused, considering the man. One shot couldn't hurt. He did manage to make her laugh and it felt damned good to laugh and not from someone that called her Satan on a regular basis. "Oh, what the hell. Okay, one shot." Addison accepted the shot glass from him, and he playfully slapped the counter.

"Yes! That's what I'm talking about. Let's have some fun. It's Christmas for god's sake."

There was a lapse somewhere because Addison was suddenly stumbling along the sidewalk, leaning heavily between two strong arms. "Wait," she tried to stop walking. "Where are we going?" She looked up to see the tan man from earlier looming over her, his brown eyes boring holes into hers.

"I'm getting you a ride home. You're trashed, Addison." He let out a crisp laugh as he held her upright. "Come on, work with me a little."

Addison was trying to make sense of the muddled memories from the last hour? Hours? And when had she told him her name?

Despite the confusion, she was grateful to have him getting her home safely.

"Here we are," he opened the back door to a black sedan and helped ease her into the car.

She looked around expectantly for a driver in the front seat, only to watch him climb in and turn the engine over.

"You're driving? You're drunk," she exclaimed nervously.

"You're drunk, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'll get you there safely. Just relax."

Addison's eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and she didn't need any more encouragement to slump against the headrest and drift back into blackness.

(*)In a haze, Addison felt hands gripping the waistband of her jeans. She looked around in a panic and realized she was on a bed much too large to fit in the trailer. The lights were different. The walls were different. How did she get here? This was all wrong. "What are you doing!" she tried to shout, but it came out strained and hoarse.

She looked down to find the man she had bestowed trust upon to get her home safely feverishly tearing at her clothes. Her hands couldn't move fast enough to try to shove him away; however, with great force, he gripped her wrists tightly and pinned them down on the bed, immobilizing her.

Fear coursed through her body when she realized she wasn't going to be able to stop this man from ravaging her body. "Stop! Stop! Please!" She cried as she writhed around violently, willing with all of her being for this to be a drunken nightmare.

Then there was a sudden and stunning blow to her cheekbone. The pain bloomed across her skull before another blow sent her reeling into blackness once more.

The day after Christmas

Derek

"Derek," Meredith huffed as she caught up to him. "You haven't been talking to me. I deserve to know what's going on."

Derek continued to walk, keeping his eyes glued to his clipboard.

Meredith managed to step in front of him and catch his eye. "I deserve to know what's going on," she repeated.

"I don't have time for this, Meredith." Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had told Addison he was staying with her, but his heart was still torn between his wife and this new love that held the potential promise of a fresh start and happiness.

When he closed his eyes at night though, he was brought back to that night in the brownstone. He could see Addison's face, dripping in rainwater and regret. Her wide, panicked eyes, ringed with running mascara haunted him.

"We're Derek and Addison," she had cried. He had never seen her unkempt until that night. She had always been the epitome of perfection and dignity, kudos to Bizzy and the Captain's upbringing, if you could call it that.

He blinked, and Meredith's eyes were still boring into his. "Look, just- I have a lot on my mind. It's Christmas. I need some time."

Meredith stopped walking, letting him put distance between the two of them as he continued in the direction of the exam room.

"Fine, Derek! Take all the time you need," she shouted after him. "And Christmas was yesterday!" She threw her hands up in exasperation.

Cristina leaned heavily against the wall beside Meredith, appearing out of nowhere. "What was all that about?" she queried.

"Time. Derek needs time, apparently. He's telling Satan one thing and me, something else."

Cristina gripped her folders tight to her chest, expressionless. "Time is never good."

"It sounds like, despite everything, he won't let her go. But I deserve to know either way." Meredith eyed Cristina. "Give me the rundown on that consult for Smith," she held her hand out for the lab results.

Cristina offered them to her, happy to oblige with changing the subject from McDreamy.

The Day after Christmas

Addison

The morning sun shone through unfamiliar curtains. Addison rose to a pulsating headache. She looked around and with the realization that the night before had been real, also came panic and nausea.

She covered her mouth quickly and clamored to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before emptying the contents of her stomach. With each memory that flooded in, another wretch wreaked havoc on her body.

She suddenly sat upright. She didn't know where she was or where he was. She wiped her mouth and climbed to her feet, looking herself over once. There were noticeable bruises where he had gripped her arms and her clothes were a mess, but not in complete disarray. She would make do. With hastiness, she searched the room for her handbag and thanked whoever was above for having found it with all her belongings inside. She pulled her heels on, wincing at the pain from where they rubbed the raw cuts on her ankles from wearing them far too long the night before.

"Okay," she mumbled to herself. "Deep breath." In one motion, she had swung the door open, sending it flying on its hinges and took the hotel stairs two at a time until she reached the bottom and opened the glass door to welcome in fresh crisp winter air.

She flagged down the first cab she saw by practically running into the street and shoved a $100 bill into the driver's cupholder upon falling into the backseat. "Get me home, fast."

For once, Addison was thankful for the remote wooded area that Derek called home. She tore her heels off and ran through the frosted grass barefooted. There was no jeep sitting out front, but she had to be sure. Her hand rested on the doorknob of the front door, and she leaned quietly against the frame, listening for any activity on the other side.

When she was met with a forgiving silence, she stumbled into the safety of the sardine can. There was no time to think about her and Derek. There was no her and Derek anymore, especially after last night. If he couldn't look at her after Mark, she didn't want to know how he would look at her now.

She was feral as she looked from her belongings to pack to the shower that seemed to stretch inviting hands out to her. The disgusted feeling that was eroding her from the inside out took over and she suddenly couldn't get into the shower fast enough. The water was scalding, but she wanted it to burn her. She wanted it to burn all the traces of that man off her.

She scrubbed and scrubbed, until the top layer of her skin was stripped raw; until it was beet red, and her body was bedecked in little beads of blood that disappeared into the water as soon as they surfaced the skin.

When she couldn't scrub anymore, she slid down into the tub and laid flat and unmoving, feeling the water pressure pound repeatedly on her body. She was waiting for something, but what? She couldn't let Derek find her. She couldn't face Derek at all. She had to get out of this shower, out of this trailer, out of this state.

Within moments, she was out of the shower and throwing everything she could fit into her bags and stuffing them until they were ready to burst, a trail of water following her as she manically moved around the trailer.

She retrieved her phone from her handbag with shaky hands and fumbled to dial a number she hadn't used since college.

"Donny? Yes, it's Addison. I know it's short notice, but is there any way you could get the private jet over to Seattle and back to Connecticut ASAP?" She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder as she struggled to pull a pair of yoga pants over her damp legs. "Yes, that's the landing strip here. Okay, great. Thank you so much, Donny."

She tossed her phone on the bed and pulled a sweater over her head. She peered into the mirror, checking for any visible marks. She was taken aback by the nasty bruise that had formed on her cheek. Delicately, she traced the bruise with her finger, remembering the painful contact his fist had made with her cheekbone. It still had an angry red hue and was tender to the touch. A little makeup would have to do the trick. There was no time to fuss over details.

Little time had passed by the time she was tactfully stacking her bags in the trunk of her SUV. She walked around to the driver's side and turned to look back at the trailer one more time.

"Be happy, Derek," she whispered. And then she was gone, on her way to wait for the plane from the safe confinements of her car.

She couldn't let her emotions catch up to her yet. Once she was safely away from everyone at work and Derek, only then could she allow herself to process any of the turmoil her life had become within the last 18 hours. There was just one more phone call to make.

"Dr. Webber, it's Addison…"

Derek studied the MRI scans hanging in front of him again. He couldn't stay focused. The memories of the night before kept pushing their way to the forefront of his mind.

Addison didn't go back to the trailer. He hadn't seen her in the hospital either. He expected a call or a message, even a note. Instead, he was met with silence.

"Shepherd," Dr. Webber burst through the door, interrupting Derek's thoughts.

"I need a consult for Bowers first chance you get." He leaned against the meeting table and glanced at the MRI scans hanging before Derek. "What are we looking at?" He nodded in the direction of the board.

Derek slowly looked from the Chief to the board before it registered what Richard had asked. "Oh, benign. It's benign." He pulled them free from the clips on the board.

"If it's benign, why have you been in deep contemplation in here for a half hour?"

Derek set the scans down on the table sheepishly. "Just trying to clear my head."

"Well, clear your head at home. We need you sharp. You know we're short staffed today. Speaking of, is Addison doing alright?"

Derek looked up at the mention of his wife. "Addison? What do you mean?"

Richard gave him a quizzical look. "Well, she called out sick today. I figured you'd know something about it."

"Oh, yeah. She was feeling pretty poor yesterday. Must've decided to stay home today," he recovered.

Richard crossed his arms across his chest and allowed a moment of tension to thicken the room. "Check in on your wife, Dr. Shepherd. And I'd hardly call your trailer a home-" A loud series of beeps sounded throughout the room. Richard plucked his beeper off the case on his waistband. "Excuse me," he mumbled before disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

"Addison?" Derek carefully balanced the grocery bags in his arms as he pushed the front door open, letting the evening sun warm the inside of the trailer.

There was no reply. He plopped the grocery bags down on whatever surface he could find space on before making his way deeper into the trailer.

A towel laid haphazardly across the bed, but that seemed to be the only remaining remnants of Addison. Everything of hers was gone. Along with Addison herself.

Ch.2 coming soon. Thank you for R&R