A/N - Wow, for some reason this was a hard chapter to write. It feels like it took forever to get it out. Be warned, Mer is being rather stupid. However, it's due to the fact that she loves Derek, is terrified of loving Derek, and doesn't think that he can ever really be hers. So, she's doing what she can to convince herself the emotions aren't there. Thanks so much to everyone who has taken the time to comment. Please review!
Meredith leaned against the counter of the nurses' station, her pen scratching quickly across the paper as she filled in a chart. She felt sort of weak and weary, tired of the long looks Addison had been giving her whenever she thought Meredith was distracted with a patient. Meredith sighed and pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead, the words "are you sleeping with my husband?" playing over and over again in her mind. Addison hadn't brought the subject up again, but it had been there lurking just below the surface. Every request to go check on a patient, every update Meredith gave Addison, everything was filled with echoes, sometimes sad, sometimes upset, sometimes resigned, but always there. It was tightening that thick guilty feeling that lined Meredith's stomach, making it hard to concentrate. She looked distractedly up from the chart to see Addison standing across the room, talking to Derek.
Meredith felt her heart skip, and looked quickly back down at her papers. She hated seeing them together. Meredith liked to pretend it wasn't jealousy that she felt. She knew it made little sense to be jealous of the woman whose husband was cheating on her, especially since she was the one helping him cheat. But she just couldn't help it. Addison had Derek in a way that was concrete, stable, and undeniable. Hell, it was even tax-deductible. Addison had a marriage. And seeing them together reminded Meredith that, at best, all she had with Derek were unanswered questions.
She tried to concentrate on filling in the patient's chart, but her gaze kept drifting back to them, watching them as they stood there talking. I need to go, thought Meredith. I need to go before they see me. But she could not convince her feet to move. She just stood there watching them until it was too late. Derek caught sight of her from across the room, and his serious expression instantly melted away into a smile. Meredith felt her face flush, the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She looked down at the chart again, trying to pretend she hadn't noticed them there. However, when she chanced another glance at the Shepherds, Derek was still looking at her. Talking to his wife, but looking at her. Meredith meant to look away again, but instead she smiled at him and kept staring, their eyes locked over Addison's shoulder.
Meredith knew that she was being immature, she knew that getting Derek to look at her instead of Addison didn't actually make him hers at all. She knew it, but knowing and feeling were very different things. And he was staring at her as if she was the only woman in the room. Meredith was rapidly forgetting to even feel guilty, Derek's eyes were taking care of that. All she could concentrate on was the fact that her skin was tingling and burning with anticipation, her breath catching as he nodded his head in response to Addison but kept his eyes trained on her. Derek raised his eyebrows at her, over his wife's shoulder, and Meredith smirked back at him. A part of her mind was screaming at her to look away, to go back to work, that this was destroying everything she'd managed to say a few hours ago in the elevator. However, it didn't manage to scream loudly enough. Because when Addison finally walked away, neither of them moved.
They stood there staring at each other across the room, until Meredith set down the chart she was working on. She knew she was going to regret what she was about to do, but her mind was too busy pulsing with thoughts of Derek to care about anything else. Addison already knows, she told herself, knowing that was probably the worst justification in the history of the world, but still…it was something.
"Dr. Shepherd…" Meredith turned on her heel and walked past him. Her voice was quiet and calm as if her words were nothing more then a greeting. But her eyes were filled with their look, and she didn't have to think about the fact that Derek wasn't really hers. Because when he smiled and said Dr. Grey, his hand reached out and brushed against hers, and Meredith knew he was going to follow her down the hall. He was going to follow her, not Addison. And for a little while, it wasn't that hard to convince herself that that was enough.
Meredith had no reason to walk down the hall to the supply cabinet at the far end. Running samples to the lab for Addison didn't require surgical masks or syringes. And the heads of the surgical departments never bothered to fetch their own supplies. Still, Meredith didn't look surprised when Derek opened the door and stepped inside. She didn't bother to ask him what he was doing. They didn't even bother to speak. They had already said enough with their eyes.
Meredith leaned away from him for an instant, wishing she knew how to just walk away. But her heart was pounding too loudly to struggle, filling her head with a pulsing sound that echoed Derek's name. Derek, Derek, Derek... The sound of the door clicking shut seemed disproportionably loud, like a gunshot at the start of a race that set their bodies falling together, kicking off their shoes, tugging almost frantically at the strings on each other's scrubs. It was as if being apart for a day had somehow left their bodies more starved for each other then all the long months they'd previously spent separated.
Meredith was vaguely aware of the boxes filled with gloves and surgical masks as they shook and shifted on the shelves, of the gauze and bandages and coils of tubing as they fell down to litter the floor. But mostly she just knew a tumbled rush of feelings, the cold hard metal of the shelves digging into her back, the burning touch of Derek's hands and mouth running all over her body, biting into him hard to keep from screaming his name because the walls were thin and they were, after all, in a closet.
But afterwards, when Meredith stood gasping for breath, her arms draped over his shoulders and his hands really the only thing keeping her from falling down, she thought she might cry. It was nothing, she told herself, trying to pretend she didn't care that as soon as they walked back out of the door Derek would still be Addison's.
"Meredith," Derek murmured, reaching up to brush the tangle of golden hair out of her eyes, but Meredith shook her head.
"Don't," she whispered, as she pushed him away. Meredith steadied herself by holding onto a shelf as she reached down for her discarded clothing. "Get dressed," she insisted, the rush of guilt returning faster then it had before.
"Meredith," repeated Derek, catching her hand in his. "Don't run away again." She just pulled away and went back to tying her shoelaces. "Meredith, can't we just…"
"No. It doesn't mean…" she began impatiently, staring at the floor as she spoke.
"…Anything," said Derek sadly, finishing her sentence for her. Meredith nodded and straightened up, forcing herself to pretend it didn't hurt.
"Exactly," she replied. "You and I, Derek…we can't mean anything." She smiled at him, faking happy, faking complete. "It's just nothing, okay? It's nothing at all." Derek frowned and started to speak, so Meredith reached out and grabbed the collar of his lab coat. She pulled him back to her, shutting him up by kissing him fiercely. She could feel Derek's hands raise up in surprise before heading like always to tangle up in her hair. But she pulled away again before he could. "See? Nothing…" she murmured, as she turned to leave the closet. Meredith wasn't sure if Derek believed her, but it didn't really matter. The lie wasn't for him. It was a game of pretend that she was playing with herself.
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Addison knew the end was coming. She could practically feel it in the air. When she got home, everything felt oddly silent. She couldn't hear any birds singing, there wasn't even the familiar gentle patter of rain. The air seemed to be filled with a heavy quiet. The calm before the storm, thought Addison to herself, flicking a light switch on as she walked into the empty trailer. Addison sat down on the edge of her bed, slowly slipping her feet out of their heels and rubbing her aching toes. She supposed that if she had an ironic sense of humor, she'd find the fact that she had followed Meredith Grey's romantic advice terribly amusing. It would be funny that she had cornered her husband and insisted that they needed to talk based solely on the advice of the other woman who was screwing him. But Derek hadn't argued or changed the subject like he usually did. Granted, she knew he'd been staring across the room at Meredith the entire time, but he hadn't walked away. Derek had simply agreed. He had agreed and then gone on to say that they should wait until they got home. That the hospital was "no place to do this." That had been the moment Addison realized they were done pretending. She knew exactly what this was. It was the unraveling of all things that were "us," and "we," and "shared." It was the taking apart of a shared life until they were back where they had started, back to two separate lives. This was the end.
Still, as she sat there waiting for Derek to come home, Addison couldn't keep her thoughts from drifting back to the beginning. Back to their wedding night, when every thought in her mind had been of him, and the future and happiness. The old her, the giddy laughing bride caught up in Derek's arms in a tumble of long red hair and white lace, could have never imagined what Addison knew was about to happen. It would have been impossible for her to fathom. Things change, whispered Addison to herself, as if trying to comfort that old self, the part of her that couldn't stop loving Derek simply because a piece of paper was about to say she should. Addison sighed and closed her eyes, and she didn't look up again until she heard the sound of familiar heavy footsteps.
Derek had come in without a word, was just standing there with his hands at his sides when Addison opened her eyes. There was a solemn quality to Derek's eyes that had replaced the guilt Addison had grown used to, and she realized that he had figured out she knew about Meredith. They stared at each other for a long time without speaking; Addison trying to pretend that she didn't still find him gorgeous, trying to pretend that he was now simply nothing to her. "Addie…" he began gently, but she shook her head.
"No…we both know what you're about to say. Spare me the sympathetic explanation Derek." Addison got up off the bed, pushing past him towards the tiny closet. It suddenly felt too much to just sit there and let him end everything, to just wait for him to say it was over. She yanked open the closet door, fumbling around for the suitcase stashed on the top shelf.
"Here…" Derek didn't bother to ask what she was doing. He simply reached up and grabbed the suitcase she was struggling with, setting it easily on the ground. Addison pulled the suitcase towards her, nearly breaking the zipper as she tugged violently on it. "Addie," he repeated. "Calm down please, I never wanted to hurt you." She shrugged and pulled her clothes out of the closet, dropping them into the suitcase unfolded and still on their hangers. "I didn't mean for us to end this way…" He gestured around at the small trailer, at the rapidly growing pile of color on the floor, falling into and around the suitcase.
"Derek, stop. I get it," snapped Addison. She pulled out her favorite pair of boots and jammed them into the suitcase before sitting back on her heels and looking up at him. "You love Meredith," she said quietly. It wasn't a question, and the shock of that statement had come and gone a long time ago. It was now nothing more then the simple fact at the heart of everything that was ending. Addison licked her lips, wishing it didn't still hurt so much to say.
"Yes," agreed Derek, his voice equally quiet. It wasn't an apology. Derek frowned down at her, and Addison realized that he wouldn't say he was sorry. An apology would mean that he regretted Meredith, and Addison knew she would never get that from him. Derek just leaned against the wall, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, watching as she packed. "You don't have to leave like this," he said at last, after Addison had straightened up with her full suitcase in tow. "Are you sure you have some place to go?"
"I'm a surgeon. I can afford a hotel," snapped Addison. Derek only shrugged and didn't push the point. "I'll call my lawyer tomorrow," she continued, laughing bitterly as she suddenly realized that a part of her had been hoping he'd insist she stay. But Derek simply leaned back against the wall again, following her with his eyes as she walked to the door. With her hand over the doorknob, Addison hesitated and looked back at Derek, wishing he would say something more. He just smiled sadly at her, giving her a long steady look she'd seen many times before. Only this time, this was the last time.
Addison closed her eyes, wishing desperately that she could hate him. Just as hating Meredith would have solved so many problems, hating Derek would probably help numb the broken, crumbling feeling in her heart.
"How is she Derek? Is she good?" The words came out as more of a sneer then anything else, before she even realized that she was speaking, just a hot bubble of anger and frustration. Derek's head jerked forward instantly, his eyebrows knitting together. And Addison almost wished she hadn't said anything. Almost. But angry hurt less then the sad silence that had been filling her heart and her head. It helped hide the fact that Derek didn't regret falling in love with Meredith. And it helped mask just what Addison was about to accomplish by walking out the door of the trailer, suitcase in hand. Derek hadn't bothered to reply, but Addison hadn't really expected him to. "Never mind," she continued, before the silence could become brutal again. "Of course she is." She didn't even try to mask the bitterness in her voice because it helped propel her out of the door and down the stairs.
"Addie," called Derek, and she whirled around, realizing he had followed her out onto the little porch. Her sudden flash of anger had faded away, leaving her with nothing to do but stare with empty eyes at the little trailer she was supposed to hate and the man who was no longer hers to love. "We tried," he said at last. It wasn't quite an apology. But for once it was something honest and sincere, and Addison felt herself smile just a little bit as she nodded.
"It just wasn't enough," she said quietly, before turning to get in her car and drive off into the darkness.
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Meredith stumbled home that night in another tequila-soaked haze. Drinking was easier then thinking, and it let her sleep. It pushed thoughts of Addison from her mind. It let her forget Finn ever had plans. It even helped fade the memory of being with Derek into a simple ache of guilt and longing. The third time hadn't been an accident. Meredith knew better then to call it that. She couldn't blame it on the heat of an argument or the confusion of crying and comfort and tears. It was cheating, plain and simple. And worst of all, it was practically planned. Meredith shook her head, cursing loudly as she nearly tripped walking through the door.
"Meredith?" She looked up to see George watching her. "You're drunk. Please, don't be a loud drunk tonight. Izzie's asleep."
"George," declared Meredith stubbornly. "I'm not drunk. I'm just helping myself forget." George sighed and got up off the couch.
"Forget what?" he asked, as he closed and locked the door Meredith had left wide open.
"That I'm Derek's mistress," answered Meredith bitterly. "You know, I got mad when he called me a whore." She shook her head and laughed loudly. George winced and put a finger to his lips, shushing her. "Funny isn't it? It suits me now. Meredith Grey, the whore." She was still laughing and shaking her head, but tears were running down her cheeks. She reached out for George's arm, missed, staggered, and finally caught hold of him.
"Mer…you need to sleep," said George, trying to steer her towards the stairs. She nodded and let him lead her up them for awhile, but when they'd gotten halfway she halted.
"George?" Meredith turned around on the stairs, miraculously managing to not fall down them. "Do you think if you pretend something for long enough, it can become real?" George just looked at her in confusion. "George…" whined Meredith, sinking down to sit on the stairs. She looked plaintively up at him, tugging on the leg of his pants like a little child. George heaved a sigh, but gave in and sat down beside her.
"I don't know Mer…probably not." His answer made Meredith start shaking her head again. He put a hand cautiously on her shoulder. "What is it?"
"I'm pretending to not love Derek," she said quietly. "I don't want him to know I still love him…I don't want myself to know…"
"Because of Addison?" asked George, feeling her body shudder beneath his hand at the question.
"Yes," she said, sounding almost cross. "And because of before, because he left me, because what if he doesn't want to leave her …what if all I'm ever going to get is sex in closets? I should hate that, I think maybe I do..." Meredith turned and looked at George, blinking back the tears that were only making the room even blurrier. "I can't tell, George! I can't tell if I hate…if…I can't…" Her voice broke, a sob shaking through her small frame.
"Shhh," soothed George, wrapping his arms around Meredith. "You aren't happy Mer…talk to him." She shook her head, fingers clinging to his neck, tears soaking the fabric of his shirt.
"No…" she moaned, a sob shaking her body. "I don't want to ask. I don't want to know." George could barely hear her through the sobbing, so he just stroked her hair, letting her lean into him. They sat like that for a long time, until Meredith couldn't manage any more tears. She struggled to sit up, sniffling and wiping away her tears. "Thank you George," she said awkwardly, her mind clearing enough to remember that George had liked Finn, to remember that she and George hadn't quite figured out how to be friends again, after everything. He looked worn and exhausted, but he just smiled and nodded his head. "I broke up with Finn…I'm not still leading him on…I'm not…" Meredith shrugged and let her words trail off, the burning haze of tequila keeping her from stringing together exactly what she meant. She looked at George almost helplessly, fidgeting awkwardly with the zipper on her sweater.
"I know," said George gently, pulling her to her feet. He led her to her room without another word, and Meredith followed along. She halted outside of Izzie's room, pressing her palm to the door.
"Izzie's broken," she whispered, as if she was telling George something he didn't know. George looked at her curiously but nodded. "It's not her fault though." She sighed and walked on. "Broken…that's why nothing is better George. Derek can't break me again if it's just nothing." Meredith smiled proudly even though her eyes were glistening with tears. "He means nothing to me…"
"Mer you're a bad liar," said George, pushing her gently into her room. She fell easily onto the bed, her knees buckling and her cheek crashing into the smooth fabric of her pillows. "Just sleep." Meredith nodded, realizing George probably wanted his own rest. And so she fought back the urge to keep talking to him just so that she wouldn't have to be alone with her thoughts. She hadn't drank enough. The sweet relief of passing out didn't come. Rather Meredith just lay there glaring at the darkness until her phone rang.
Derek. It was Derek. Nothing…Meredith reminded herself fiercely, reaching out for her phone. Her fingers hesitated for a moment, trembling over the buttons. But at last she simply turned off the ringer. She didn't answer. She let the phone fall to the floor with a clatter. Nothing at all…nothing…nothing… It was the worst sort of lullaby, but Meredith let it play over and over in her mind until finally unconsciousness came and she didn't have to think anymore.