Losing Everything and Finding Yourself

Chapter 4 - My Fault

December 19th, 2005

4:30 p.m.

Addison Shepherd

I'm out. Out on bail. Not to leave the state or city but at least I'm out. I wonder why it took so long for Derek to pay my bail. I mean, I know I did something stupid and wrong and that someone died because of it but still, I'm his wife. Through sickness and in health, the good times and the bad. So why did it take him so long? I take a cab up to the hospital and ask the nurse on duty to page him.

"I'm sorry Dr. Shepherd but the other Dr. Shepherd has left already. Most of the surgical staff is gone. The funeral for the intern who died in the crash is today. Pretty much everyone went to pay their respects. Perhaps you should look for him there."

I nod, my face blank. Obviously the news of my being the other driver hasn't quite reached the gossip mill. Odd and surprising since I was pretty sure that Derek would have told the Chief and then the Chief would tell Burke and Bailey and Burke would have told Christina and I am pretty sure that she would waste no time informing everyone that 'Satan' was the one who drove drunk straight into the woman whom her husband loved along with said woman's two best friends and roommates.

I walk away to the on-call room that Derek and I share occasionally and start to gather up my meager belongings. I might as well get it done now since I won't be working here anymore. Richard will revoke my tenure for this and besides, there is no way he would force Stevens and Grey to work with me after what I have done.

I stuff my scrubs in the small duffel bag and let the tears fall freely. I killed someone. The most innocent person I have ever met and I killed him. And Stevens is speech impaired after being in a coma for two days. Then there is Grey. Multiple surgeries. Long recovery time. Strong possibilities of complications occurring later. All sorts of charges are going to be filed against me. God help me if the cops think I ran into their car on purpose because of Derek and Meredith.

I stand up and take a deep breath. I need to see Derek. Know that he doesn't blame me. Hate me. I smile and bite my lip as I climb into the back of the waiting cab. Derek can't hate me. He paid my bail. He'll help me get through this. I know he will. If for no other reason than it is part of the obligation of the marriage vows.

The driver gets me to my destination quicker than expected. The service is still going on. Quietly I slip into a row at the back and bide my time trying extremely hard to look anywhere and everywhere except for at the casket. Finally it was over. The family walked out first. I avoid their gaze and shrink further down into the bench. Then various relatives and friends go by me. I stand up as the hospital staff and Derek approach.

Derek looks at me but doesn't say a word as he starts to walk past me towards the double doors that lead to the hall where everyone is extending their condolences to the O'Malley family.

"Derek, wait."

"For what? We're through Addison."

I stare at him blankly as the other hospital members create a circle around us, trying to shield the family from what is happening.

"But why?"

He looks at me as if I have said something stupid. "This is not the time or the place Addison. You should know that."

I don't know what to do. I know that this isn't the best time but we're through? How did that happen? I mean, I know he's not completely in love with me anymore but he does love me. I am his wife dammit. I deserve an explanation. I gently touch the edge of his shirt sleeve.

"Derek, please. I need to know why."

"Why? Why. You need to know why?" His voice lowers drastically to the point that I can barely hear it. Even so the hostile tone cannot be overlooked.

"Because you killed someone Addison. Because you drove drunk. Because you cheated on me. I don't care pick one; but I am telling you that this is not the time or the place to be doing this so leave now."

I gaze at him silently. He stares back, equally silent, with contempt etched into his features.

"Why would you pay my bail if you felt like this?" I ask quietly, desperately searching for hope.

"Pay your bail? I wouldn't even accept a collect call from you. What makes you think I would pay your bail?"

"But you were the only one I called." I say shakily.

"Of course I am Addy." He looks at me with a sad smile on his face. "Maybe you should wonder why that is. Did you not want to call anyone else or do you not have anyone else to call?"

"That doesn't explain the paid bail." I say quietly trying to hide the tears that are now swimming in my eyes behind my closed eyelids.

"Plenty of people know you were being held in jail because of the accident. Any one of them could have paid your bail when they realized I meant to leave you there until you rot. Christ, Addy, even Mark knew you were in the accident. Why don't you ask him?"

He breaks through the circle of staff between the asian intern and a red-headed nurse who looks slightly familiar. Both give me a glare and a tight smile as the circle begins to disperse. But then, right before she passes in front of the family, the little nurse turns around on her heel, strides back towards me, and before I realize what she intends to do she slaps me across the left cheek.

"Bitch." the word leaves her mouth and rings in my ears as she walks away. I purposely keep my head lowered as I walk away from the family towards the opposite set of doors that lead out the back of the building. I close the doors behind me and a sob escapes me before I can even slide down them to sit on the uncomfortable cement steps. Oh God, what have I done? It's my fault. All my fault.

December 19th, 2005

8:10 p.m.

Isobel Stevens (Izzy)

They said it was beautiful. The ceremony of course. A lot of people showed up. Some had only me George in passing but he had that kind of effect. He was that kind of person. Sweet tempered and kind. George was, well, George. Alex and Olivia came to tell me practically verbatim what the pastor said a few hours ago. So I know it was a lovely service and I'm glad. George deserved it. Alex stared to mention something about a scene but Olivia shot him a nasty look. I wonder what it was all about. I'm just glad George's funeral was nice. He really did deserve it. I wish I could have gone. He was the sweetest guy I'll probably ever meet. He was so different from his brothers. They had that same sweetness but George had managed to somehow coat himself in it.

They came by this morning with their mum and dad, his brothers I mean. George's oldest brother, I can't really remember his name very well, sat in the corner of the room looking at the floor. He was quiet the entire time they were here and I know why. He thinks it is his fault. He is blaming himself for George's death. I wanted to reassure him. Tell him he's wrong but I didn't think it would be appropriate to bring it up in front of his family.

When I met Georg's dad and brother's back at Thanksgiving I could not figure out for the life of me where George had gotten his shyness from. I mean those men are the complete opposite of shy. This morning I found out the answer. His mom, Annabell O'Malley. She was os small, so delicate. I found myself surprised that none of her other sons hadn't broken her in their playfulness. And with the grief etched in her features she looked so fragile.

She had waited until the others had departed before dropping the bomb that tore me to pieces. That bit of one-sided conversation that still has me crying. She had merely leaned in, given me a hug, a letter for Meredith when she wakes up, and whispered her choice of farewell.

"It's so nice to meet the Izzy that George was always telling me about on the phone. He had always wanted a sister. I'm glad he found one in you. I have to go now. It was nice meeting you. I wish it had been under better circumstances."

And with that she had stood up and walked out the door. I had felt like throwing up. That's how strong the grief hit me. George had thought of me as his sister. And I killed him. Oh everyone says that it isn't my fault that it is the fault of the drunk driver who hit us that night but still, if I hadn't been so caught up in the holiday thing then I wouldn't have suggested taking the dog up to the hospital for the kids and if I hadn't suggested it we wouldn't have left the house and if we hadn't left the house then George would be alive and Meredith would be moping over McDreamy and everything would be okay.

I tried explaining that to Alex when he came to visit me the other day but he wouldn't listen. He got this funny look on his face and told me that no matter what I thought the accident was not my fault. Then he said something about fate and karma but I didn't really listen. I was too upset over George's death.

All those what if's kept running through my mind. What if we hadn't come back to the hospital? What if we had stayed a little longer or left a little earlier? But all the what if's in the world can't fix what happened. It was my idea. We were hit. Meredith's in a coma and George is dead. And it is all my fault. My fault.

Continued in Chapter 5. Meant to Be