A/N: I lied, I used more of the Private Practice plot for the next few chapters lol. I hope you enjoy this next installment. Let me know what you think :)

Chapter 3

The Captain, Archer and Addison had been immersed in conversation with the funeral director for some time and while Addison sat up rigidly and was attuned to everything he was saying, she could tell her brother and father were both growing weary.

"…Well, to be clear, she wanted a public memorial service with a reception to follow at the house. The interment is just for family and close friends the following morning." The director droned on.

"Well, sounds like she's handled everything." Archer stood, expecting that to be the end of his spiel.

The director cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses that were entirely too small for his face. "One last thing. Mrs. Montgomery requested that there be one eulogy."

The Captain swirled the scotch around in his glass as he considered the request. "I'd be happy to do it."

Addison watched the director adjust those awful glasses again and study the documents in front of him. "Actually, Sir. She asked that Addison do it."

All eyes fell on her, and the air was thick as butter until Archer broke the tension by laughing and strolling out of the room.

"I'm sorry," Addison apologized to the director and left the room in search of him. "Archer, wait," she said in frustration as she shut the door behind her.

"I need to know I can count on you this weekend. No getting trashed and making a scene or hooking up with every woman in the room. This is our mother's funeral, okay?"

Archer raised an eyebrow and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Well, how am I going to ruin a funeral that's already been planned out for us, down to the guest list? You know," he stepped closer. "I don't think I'll be the talk of the day. Not with you there, the daughter that ran off to Seattle to chase after her husband that she cheated on."

"Archer, stop." She moved away from him and put her hands on her hips. "This weekend is not about me and my marital issues."

"So, you admit you have issues," he smirked, and she playfully slapped his arm. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"There's nothing to tell," she quipped.

He eyed her carefully. "Do you know you look like hell, Sis?"

Derek's phone rang, pulling him out of his reverie. "Shepherd," he answered as he dropped his briefcase by the front door to his trailer.

"It's been a while since I've heard that voice," the person on the other end mused.

"Archer," Derek pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "What can I do for you?"

"I take it you haven't heard," is all Archer provided.

Derek paused, contemplating what that loaded statement could mean. "Is it Addison? Is everything okay?"

"Addison is okay, but I don't know if that's how I would describe the situation."

Derek could hear the playfulness in Archer's voice. Under any circumstances, Archer appeared amused. He always had. But it was his way of dealing with things and Derek didn't give him a hard time for it. That didn't mean Archer's banter and elitist attitude didn't annoy him, though. Both Addison and her brother were raised in the same household but coped with things in opposite ways. That, he could understand given his own family dynamic.

Derek didn't say anything as he waited for Archer to continue.

"Bizzy had an aneurism. Addison found her this morning."

There was silence as Derek tried to work everything out in his head. Addison was in Connecticut. Addison was staying in her trauma-inducing childhood home. Bizzy is dead. Addison found her. Addison didn't tell him.

"I didn't know," was all he could say after what felt like several minutes had passed.

"The funeral is on Saturday. I figured she had told you by now." Derek could hear a woman calling for Archer in the background.

"I have surgery tomorrow," Derek said, thinking aloud. "I'll have to fly in on Friday. I can be there that night."

Archer cleared his throat. "Good, then I'll see you there. Addison… well, she…. Look, just get your ass up here."

"What about Addison?" Derek held the phone closer to his ear, but the line went dead. How Montgomery of him.

Derek had been wracking his brain trying to imagine how Addison was holding up. She seemed iron strong on the outside and could very well convince anyone she was as coldhearted and cruel as the interns liked to say she was. But the truth was, she was soft inside. She was complex and emotional. There were very few people that Addison had allowed to see that side of her. He was one of the lucky ones. Until he wasn't.

Surgery had gone well today, despite his being distracted and now he was in the Chief's office explaining that he would not be coming into work the following day. Richard was looking at him expectedly from behind his desk.

"Bizzy's funeral is on Saturday. I'll be flying out tomorrow. Have Burke keep an eye on my patients in the meantime. I plan on being back on Tuesday, but I'll call you should that change."

Richard nodded and leaned back into his office chair thoughtfully. "How's Addie doing?"

"I'm not sure," Derek admitted.

"She could use your support, Derek. I remember how her parents were when you were both students of mine." He visibly shuddered and then regained his composure. "Losing a parent is one of the most difficult and confusing losses a person can go through. I know you know that." He looked up at Derek through his glasses. "Shelve your differences for now. She needs you."

A small and familiar anger flared up inside Derek. He didn't need marital advice from his Chief resident. He hated that his marital affairs were being discussed by his work colleagues.

Richard liked to think he knew Addison well, but no one knew her like Derek did and adultery with his best friend was a hard thing to put on the shelf, if only for the time being. But then he thought of Addison finding her mother's cold body in her tumultuous childhood home and having done so after leaving her husband that she flew across the country to fight for. His anger slowly subsided.

"Thank you, Chief. I'll call you on Monday to confirm if I'll be back Tuesday morning."

There was thudding against the door to the Chief's office suddenly and they both turned to see George and Cristina banging their fists on the glass. George squished his face against the window to peer inside and upon seeing the Chief, he knocked more rapidly. They could hear both of the interns' muffled and urgent cries, "Chief! Chief!"

Derek turned back to Richard when he heard him release a dramatic sigh.

"On your way out, try to keep those two from forcing their way in here."

Derek looked over his shoulder and then back to Richard. "I'm sorry to inform you, but I think they're going to come in one way or another."

He tucked his clipboard under his arm and swung the door open to Richard's office, revealing two interns on the other side, both eager to bombard the Chief with whatever the newest procedure was that they wanted in on.

"Yang, O'Malley, come in. Slowly," Richard warned.

It was Friday evening and Addison was busy picking herself apart, since her mother was no longer present to do so.

Archer had called her just moments ago to inform her that Derek was joining her at the estate that night. He didn't question her about why she hadn't told him their mother had passed or that she had found her in that state, but she could feel the unspoken question hanging in the air. That was a question she wasn't ready to provide an answer for and like a true Montgomery, he looked the other way.

She glided her fingers over her protruding hip bones. She had had trouble eating after Derek left New York, but she hadn't been able to eat more than just a bite or two in the days following Christmas. She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of that night and braced herself against the sink, willing the thoughts to go away. It made her feel nauseous every time she was inadvertently reminded of it, of him. Her emotions would be reined in this weekend, though. There would be nothing that would lead anyone to be suspicious of her or her mother. She was bound and determined of that.

She may be able to hide her emotions, but her body was starting to put her state of health on full display for the world to see and right when everyone was gathering for Bizzy's funeral.

She sighed and stepped back into her walk-in closet. Most of her things that were appropriate for a funeral were in the brownstone townhome in New York, but she would make do with the clothes she had left at her parents'. A silky black midi dress with a lace halter top caught her eye. She retrieved it from the closet and gently hung it on the frame of a floor length mirror she didn't recognize.

She looked at herself in the mirror, stared into her own eyes. But they were lifeless, cold, and lifeless. Had she seen too much? Been through too much? She could feel her emotions shutting down more than they ever had before. She might have possibly, finally broke. But what a relief it was, to finally feel nothing.

A knocking on her bedroom door pulled her away and she slid her hands down the front of her dress, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles. She tilted her chin up, inhaled a deep breath and when she opened her eyes, she was once again, Addison Forbes Montgomery, the impenetrable and calculated world-renowned neonatal surgeon, but first and foremost, the carefully curated WASP daughter of two absent parents.

She could do this. She could be emotionless.

When she opened the door, a short mousy housekeeper stared back up at her.

"Yes?" The woman didn't look familiar to Addison. The Montgomery house had a rotating door of employees. She stopped trying to keep up after her father's mistress number five, otherwise referred to as her nanny. All the people her parents had hired were either her father's new flavor of the week or her mother's temporary emotional punching bag. They never lasted long.

"Your husband is here to see you." She squeaked.

Addison moved past her without saying anything and descended the stairs in even, deliberate strides.

"Derek," she greeted at the bottom of the stairs with an unreadable expression. The lights were dimmed so much so that her black eye was masked easily with makeup.

"Are you okay? I got here as fast as I could." He moved closer to her, reaching out a hand, but she was quick to take a small step back, declining his advances.

"Would you care for a drink?" Her eyes blinked robotically.

Derek declined, but she had already stalked off in the direction of the kitchen before she heard his answer.

He moved quietly into the kitchen and sat down at one of the barstools, watching her from a distance. She looked impossibly thin now that she was free of furs and lab coats. "I don't want anything," he said after a moment. "Can we turn on some lights? It's so dark in this house."

Addison ignored his request as she popped the cork to a wine bottle and poured herself a generous glass before finally turning to face him. With the way she was standing and looking at him, he could have sworn it was Bizzy staring back at him and not his wife.

He spoke first. "I'm so sorry, Addie. And I'm sorry you were the one to find her. Why didn't you call me? I've been trying to get ahold of you for days."

She looked at him, but it was more like she was looking through him. "I'm fine, Derek. I thought it best if I left you in Seattle where you were happy. I didn't expect Bizzy to have an aneurism," she stated coolly.

"I don't think anyone would be fine after that and I don't expect you to be." He stood and moved to her side. "I told you I would stay and work on our marriage. I meant what I said about Meredith that night, but I also meant what I said about us. We're doing this, you, and me. We're sticking this out and we're going to try."

He tried to place his hand on the small of her back, the way he used to. He had learned over time that this was how she preferred to be comforted when she didn't want to talk about difficult things. That, and holding her in bed. But as soon as his fingers brushed the back of her shirt, her eyes became wide as though she was being brought back to life and she quickly sidestepped him.

He gave her a look of concern. "I know Bizzy just passed and we're…well I know it's complicated with us, but you know you can talk to me about this, right? This house, it can change you. I've seen it. I just want you to know you can talk to me."

Addison didn't need a pity marriage. If he was out, he was out. She would prefer that to being married simply for the sake of easing his own guilt and her own heartache. She blinked slowly, returning to her Bizzy-like stature. "I can't talk about this right now. I really should be getting the floral arrangements prepared. Excuse me."

"Addison," he called after her and chased her down the hallway.

"The housekeeper has prepared you a room upstairs. Your luggage should be in there by now." She walked briskly, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Addison, stop." Derek jogged to catch up and stepped in front of her at the top of the stairs. "I'll stay with you, in your old bedroom."

"I want to be alone. I think it would be best if you slept in the guest room tonight."

That statement rang familiar for Derek. He had heard that line one too many times after so many arguments in the brownstone. It was always a final blow, and nothing would be different this time around.

He stepped back in defeat. "Okay, Addison. I'll be down the hall."

He retreated to the one guest room with an open door. His luggage had been placed delicately on the luggage rack in the corner of the room and fresh towels were stacked on the bed. He sighed and collapsed onto the bed in a heave, sending the neatly stacked towels tumbling.

Addison was an enigma. She always had been and apparently always would be. Derek used to love that about her – the mystery. He strove to be the one that understood her and at some point, he thought maybe he did. But now, with her lifeless eyes and cold Bizzy remarks, he could tell she was somewhere far away, somewhere he couldn't reach her. And again, she had become a mystery to him.

She had told him things of her past, things that had happened in her childhood and in this house, but he knew she had left things out. He wasn't sure if she had done so out of shame or for the sake of her family's reputation, but he knew there were things she hadn't told him. He wondered now, if Bizzy's death had brought those memories back. Maybe that would explain her behavior.

Derek stood at the sink, looking through the glass window into the operating room. Burke was being handed a scalpel from a blonde intern. The lights were blaring down, creating a halo around the room. Were they always this bright?

He looked back down at his hands, turning them over slowly, methodically as he soaped and rinsed them. Suddenly, there was banging on the glass, and he lifted his head to see Meredith on the other side, throwing her fists heavily against the glass over and over, screaming at the top of her lungs, but the sound was muffled, like she was screaming underwater.

He tried to shout back at her, but no sound came out. The screaming became louder and louder, but he felt Meredith slipping away and the scene faded into fuzzy blackness. He rolled over in bed, as he came to, but the screaming was still there. He shot straight up in bed, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

The screaming was real, he realized. He tumbled out of bed, untangling himself from the sheets and felt around in the dark for the door. Light from the hallway flooded in when he opened it, and he followed the sound down the hall to Addison's room.

"Addison," he whispered urgently upon opening the door. He looked over to see her sleeping form and closed the door behind him.

She was thrashing around and shouting something incoherent. He sat on the bed next to her and placed a hand on her upper arm.

"Addison," he whispered again, worried about startling her.

He rubbed a finger over her knitted eyebrows to smooth them and slid his hand down to cup her cheek that glistened in sweat.

Her eyes blinked open in panic, and she shoved her body against the bedframe when she spotted a figure looming over her.

"It's just me, Addie." Derek spoke calmly.

Her breath hitched and she sat up straighter to regain her composure. "Sorry," she said after a moment. She ran the back of her hand against her forehead, feeling the sheen of sweat there.

He scooted closer and leaned towards the lamp on the nightstand.

She grabbed his arm and spoke hurriedly, "keep the lights off."

"Why?" He asked.

"Just, please, keep them off." She was painfully aware of the silk pajama shorts and camisole that she wore to bed.

"You were having a nightmare," he said quietly. "Was it about Bizzy?"

Addison sat unmoving for a moment, staring at the bruises on her thighs and arms that she couldn't see in the dark. It felt like whole minutes had passed when she finally said, "I can't remember."

Derek drew the covers back and slid in next to her.

"What are you doing?" She asked quickly, worried that he would somehow see the mars on her skin in the dark room.

"I'm staying with you," he spoke as if it was silly of her to have asked.

Addison was going to argue, but her heartrate hadn't slowed, and she was more desperate for her husband's comfort than she cared to admit.

His body molded against hers and he wrapped his arms around her protectively.

She was reminded in an instant of how much she missed this from the moment he left New York. He felt strong and secure behind her, grounding her for the first time in several months.

Derek could feel the weight loss on Addison. There was a gap where his forearm was normally cushioned on her abdomen, and he moved his arm down slightly to feel her sharpened hipbones jutting out. When did she become this small?

Emotions stirred inside him, and he held her closer against him, worried she would fade away if he didn't. He had missed how the mix of her hair and fragrance smelled in bed at night – Chanel and florals. He moved his fingers to her hair, carefully stroking her bangs away from her face and feeling a wetness on her cheek.

"It's okay, Addie," he whispered. He gently pulled her so that she was facing him more. She craned her neck around so that they were face to face. He could see the glistening of her cerulean eyes, even in the dark.

He ached to soothe her, to take away her pain so that she would return to the Addison he knew. The Addison before Bizzy, before Seattle, before Mark and before he became emotionally unavailable. He missed the Addison that he drove away in their marriage - the vulnerable side of her that he caused her to regret revealing to him. He craved to feel her, to touch her and know she was still in there somewhere.

Hesitantly, he leaned in closer, until his lips were inches from hers and they shared the same breath.

Addison's body instinctively drew closer to him, but she felt a panic swirling inside that made her feel lightheaded and dizzy. She needed his love now more than ever, but she was afraid of it at the same time.

Despite her fears, she met him half-way and their lips connected in a familiar, melting movement. She felt his hand snake around the back of her head, keeping her there with him in the moment.

It was a slow, sultry kiss that said more than either one of them could ever say out loud.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to dissolve against his lips and his body, willing his touch to wash away another man's. But when she opened her eyes again, she saw a pair of brown orbs staring back at her. She jumped, pulling away from Derek. When she looked up again, the brown eyes were gone.

"I'm-I'm sorry," she stuttered. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she looked away before he could see them. He cupped her face again, turning her to him once more.

A new fear was beginning to materialize for Derek. He moved to click the lamp on again, but Addison was quick to grab his arm. "Don't," she pleaded.

He dropped his arm and moved closer to her. "Why? Addison, look at me." He could just make out her face in the dark as he brushed away a tear that had escaped. An uneasy knot formed in his stomach. "Did something happen? Something you're not telling me?"

He could see the movement of Addison shaking her head feverishly. "No, Derek. I found my mother's body. How do you want me to act?"

Addison could feel panic rising through her body. Before Derek could say anything else, she pulled his body closer to hers like a blanket to shield out unwanted thoughts. "Just hold me, please."

Derek said nothing as he wrapped his arms around her again and encouraged her to lay her head against his chest. He couldn't remember a single time she had pleaded with him to hold her. Her wanton was always silent, hopeful that he could read her mind in times of need. He had never seen her so out of character as he had tonight. But he would oblige and save his questions for later.

Much time had passed before he felt her body go limp and her breath even out. Only then, did he allow himself to succumb to sleep as well.

Ch.4 coming soon.