Don't Hold Me
Chapter 4
AUTHORS NOTE:
I overlooked so many things in this story. Since I said Addison is 38 years old in the first chapter, I will go with that, but since this is an AU story I am going to say that everything in Private Practice and Grey's Anatomy (Season 1-5) and Private Practice (Season 1-6) that happened concerning any of these main characters (minus Addison's marriage to Jake at the end obviously.) happened prior to this date. That way the characters still have their "History". Going to say it's been several years since Addison and Derek broke up. Initially Addison and Mark lived together in LA but moved back to Seattle when their mentor Richard Webber needed them to work at the hospital. Traveling back to LA to seek fertility treatments but living and working in Seattle. Addison and Mark are now married. Derek and Meredith are married and off living their best life working on a promising clinical trial in Portland, Oregon. I hope this makes more sense, and better explains the weird mixture of Private Practice and Grey's Anatomy characters.
Addison 15 weeks
"You're in pain." Mark observes.
"I'm OK."
"You haven't left the couch other than to go to the bathroom in days, you are barley eating, what can I do to help?"
"You know…. I'm trying to watch America's Got Talent. You could go away, that would be a big help, you're standing in front of the TV." I say, and he frowns, turning to look at the TV, and then taking the remote and switching it off. "Hey!" I protest.
"We need to talk Addison."
"No, we don't. I'm fine." I say, trying to sound confident. I'm not 'fine' though. Maybe I'm depressed, or maybe I am just lonely, maybe I'm afraid, but I'm not 'fine'.
"You promised you would be honest with me." He says forcefully. The pamphlets, and other paperwork from the hospital is scattered across the coffee table, I was reading them earlier, trying to weigh my options. Funny how they all list depression as a side effect of cancer. I remember reading something a few years back. A teenager was dying of cancer and had said 'Depression is not a side effect of cancer. It's a side effect of dying.' Maybe I am thinking about this the wrong way. I am struggling to keep optimistic 'Everything is going to be fine.' Attitude I had adopted shortly after diagnosis. I don't know how to say what I need. I uncurl slowly and sit up, so he can take the space beside me.
"I need you to stop treating me like a fragile… damaged…." I start, but I can't find the right words. The last three days have been unbearable. We were in the shower; the heat caused my blood pressure to drop and I nearly passed out. He grabbed my arm to keep me from falling, causing me to cry out in pain. That frightened him. I don't know that he grabbed me particularly hard, but my upper arm instantly bruised up, with an angry, red handprint wrapped around, that has, in the days since turned into an interesting shade of plum. He's afraid to touch me now, even more so than before, as in, goes out of his way to avoid physical contact. I just want him to hold me, reassure me things are going to be ok.
"I hurt you."
"No, you didn't. Bruises happen, there's no way to prevent that. It's the nature of the disease."
"I'm sure your arm would beg to differ."
"It doesn't hurt." I say, shrugging, or it could be that the rest of me hurts so much that one more thing isn't really all that noticeable. I am not sure which is the larger truth.
"You're a bad liar." He says, leaning over and kissing me, so gently on the forehead, a small step from the three days of nothing. He won't even let me snuggle too close to him in bed. I swear he would wrap me head to toe in bubble wrap if he didn't think I would suffocate. I sigh in frustration, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pull him down on top of me, kissing him on the lips, just wanting to feel them again. He gives me a look of confliction, resisting, but then he kisses me back. We pull apart for a moment and our eyes meet.
"I'm not going to break Mark." I say.
"But you are… breaking. You're so warm, do you feel OK?" He asks in a concerned murmur. I sigh in dismay and let him go, allowing myself to fall back against the couch, and resting my head on the pillow I had laid on the arm rest, looking blankly at the empty television screen.
"I'm fine. Just forget it." I say, debating getting up and going into the bedroom, I am suddenly so tired.
"What do you want from me?!" He demands. His voice breaking. The issue of the possible fever going temporarily forgotten.
"Nothing, I said forget it." I curl up again, getting back into that comfortable position. He sits on the edge of the couch beside me, making room. We need a bigger couch. There was never really a need for something larger, being close wasn't an issue before.
"Obviously, something? What is it?" He is getting frustrated, but I don't care. "I just don't want to hurt you Addison, I don't want you to hurt yourself by not getting the medical treatments you so desperately need, it that really so hard to accept?"
"You are hurting me though… you don't trust me." I murmur, and then just wanting him to shut up about the subject "Let's go to Italy, let's go on that honeymoon we never got to take."
"As soon as you're stronger we can, we'll go anywhere you want." He promises. Well that didn't work out. I don't know what I was expecting him to say.
"No. I mean… I want to go now."
"Addison -"
"Please Mark - could we go for a short time? Even just a week? I don't want to die without seeing -" I start coughing hard, moving my hand to my mouth to cover it. When I pull it away, it is splattered with crimson blood. We look at each other, mutual shock, I start to cry, and he springs into action.
"OK that's it, we're going to the hospital." He helps me to sit back up and rubs my back until the coughing has stopped. He goes to the bathroom, wets a washcloth, and brings it to me, gently wiping the blood from my face, and hands me a second for my hands.
"No Mark… please…." I beg. "It's probably just Hematemesis, completely common when you've been throwing up as much as I have." My own fault. The most commonly used drug for morning sickness 'Zofran' comes with a whole page of possible side effects, that I don't particularly want to add to my list of issues. If I ever go back to work again, no I quickly correct myself, When I go to work again, I won't be quite as quick to tell women the sickness should ease up after the first trimester.
"Are you trying to die?" He asks, handing me a thermometer, I put it under my tongue, obediently, but roll my eyes at them all the same. When It beeps, I hand it back to him without even looking at the number on the tiny little screen. "101.5" He says. Shaking his head.
"So, I'll take a Tylenol. I'm not trying to speed up the process Mark. I just don't see the point in subjecting myself to so many additional germs I can't fight off, subjecting the moms and other babies to whatever the hell I caught when this is probably something completely ordinary." Arizona said if anything came up, that was not a life or death emergency, that I should go straight to L&D, even though I am not yet 20 weeks. The rest of the team agreed it would be safest. L&D has its own ventilation system that is separate from the germs of the rest of the hospital.
"Were going. Addie, I'm sorry. I have to make the choice for both of us now."
"Didn't I just see you last week?" Arizona asks, jokingly, walking over to my bedside. She sees the blood on my top her mouth forms a little 'o', and her expression says, 'so that's what we're doing.' She isn't nearly as skilled at keeping her facial expressions in check with adults as she is with children.
"She's weak, throwing up blood, having extreme sickness and her fever was 101.5 when we left the house." Mark says, before I can say anything at all. I had had another coughing fit in the car, and we had to pull over to the side of the road until it subsided. Arizona starts the exam, taking my vitals, which weren't great, to examining the bruises, which was mortifying. To feeling my neck and shining a light down my throat.
"How long has your throat been hurting?" She asks me.
"I don't know, it doesn't hurt any worse than normal why?"
"You have a raging case of strep throat, that's casing the additional sickness and coughing. You have deep lesions in the back of your throat. Let me check baby, and then we will come up with a game plan." She says, leaning me back so she can listen for baby's heartbeat.
"Addison you have to breathe, you're going to pass out." She reminds me, it seems like we go through this everytime. Maybe when he is bigger, when I can feel him moving, I will be less anxious in the time just before I can hear his heart beating. She frowns as she moves the fetal doppler around. Relief as I hear his heartbeat flood the room is quickly replaced with fear.
"Arizona what is the machine reading? It sounds like tachycardia do you hear it?"
"Yes, it's mild, but it's there. Could be due to the infection, + low platelets." She says shaking her head. "Damn."
"I only need oxygen, blood and fluids, a broad-spectrum antibiotic, and Tylenol to keep the fever from rising. I'm fine." I say, trying to reassure Mark, who looks scared to death.
"Only-" He responds, weakly. It's odd how one can be the most brilliant doctor in the world, and do so many wonderful things, and completely melt and freeze when it is your own loved one on the examination table?
"She's going to be ok Mark; it just would have been easier on them both if she had come in sooner is all." Arizona says, trying to sound optimistic, "Mark, you should go get some coffee or something. Addison is going to be fine I won't leave her until you get back." Arizona says. "I don't want you passing out and ending up in the germ filled ER." She explains. I notice just how white he's gone.
"It's alright Mark… go ahead, I would like a green juice if you're going to the cafeteria, and find me a pair of clean scrubs, or something." I say, he protests for a moment, not wanting to leave me, but then nods, kissing me, telling me he'll be right back and leaving the room.
"OK close your eyes." Arizona says, she had put in the order for the medication while she was talking to Mark, and a nurse brings in the requested blood, fluids, medications, and a lab kit.
"I am a doctor you know." I protest. "You don't have to treat me like a child."
"Trust me, it will make you feel better about me taking this much blood from you." She says and doesn't begin until I close my eyes. She inserts the IV triple lumen catheter into the vein in my arm and takes what seems like an endless amount of blood. "OK- you can open your eyes, wasn't that better?" She asks, and I don't want to admit it, but actually it was. I guess it's something different when it's your own blood. She hooks everything up, and a shiver goes up my spine as she opens the lines and the fluids make their way through my veins. She helps me sit up and attaches the blue and pink bands around my stomach, holding the NST sensors in place on my stomach, she hooks it to the machine, and hooks me up to a nasal cannula for oxygen. An intern comes and takes the plastic bags with the bloodwork vials in them. Arizona reminds him he needs to walk them down personally and put a rush on them.
"Ari- if anything happens, if you have to make the choice between me and Ollie-" I say, she turns up the volume and the sound of his heartbeat blasts from the monitor like the most beautiful melody.
"Were not there yet Addison. I don't want you to worry about that now."
"Just… if you do…. when the time comes… I need you to choose Ollie, and you can't tell Mark, that we had this discussion. He…. wouldn't understand."
"You're giving up." She clarifies.
"I'm being realistic." I correct her. "I can't sign a DNR until he has reached viability, it would kill Mark if we both died, and all of this was for noting, but I can tell you my wishes, since you will almost certainly be the one delivering."
"Let me get the oncology team down here. We can discuss your options for starting induction chemotherapy treatment once the infection has cleared."
"I don't want chemo Arizona…. I've been more than clear about that."
"You're afraid."
"Wouldn't you be?"
"I would be terrified." Arizona agrees. Studying me carefully.
"So, why are you pushing this so hard?" I demand.
"Because right now, now you're just sick. You're not dying Addison, not yet, possibly not ever, you're too mean, but definitely not today." She says sitting down next to the bed, forcing me to look at her. "You have to do what's best for you right now Addison."
"I can't. It's not about me right now." I say in disagreement, looking up at the monitors. His heartrate is back within normal range, I allow myself to relax, just a little bit.
"How are you helping him by killing yourself?" She asks, shaking her head, and walking out of the room, mumbling something like "I have to go check on your labs."
I am just starting to doze off when Amelia comes into the room, walks to me quickly, and then stops just before grabbing me and very gently hugs me, as if reminding herself she has to be extra super baby gentle now. I try not to show my frustration with her for this.
"I'm sorry, I was in surgery, I came as soon as I could."
"Don't come too close, I'm contagious, it's just strep. They shouldn't have bothered you. You're working, your patients are more important." I say this quickly, relieved when she backs away a little bit. My voice is horse, but they gave me something strong to suppress the sporadic coughing fits. I am thankful to have this little bit of relief.
"I'm your sister." She says, as if that is enough. The fact that she even considers me her sister still after all the divorce is something.
"How's the rugrat doing?" She asks,
"He was tachycardia earlier, but he recovered quickly once medication was started." I gesture up to the bags dripping into my vein.
"That's good Addison, that he's OK I mean." She says, looking approvingly at the monitors. I can almost feel her let out a sign of relief. "He's a fighter, just like his Momma."
"Fuck." I don't know why, but a sudden realization hits me, and it is overwhelming.
"What?"
"Derek doesn't know about any of this. Not that I'm sick, not that I'm pregnant, nothing. Do you think he'd even want to know?" Where does the line cross between ex-wife and friend?
"I'm sure he would. God knows you were married to him for long enough."
"I haven't heard from him in a while." Derek and Meredith had moved to Portland for a groundbreaking job opportunity, a few months before all of this went down. I wonder if someone would have told him. No. If someone told him surely, he would have called. I am drawn out of my thoughts by a bag opening and crunching. "I guess they've been working a lot of hours on the clinical trials."
"Did you tell Bizzy and the Captain? Have you told Archer?" She asks, and I look down, ashamed. I haven't told anyone. The only ones that know are those working directly on my case, Richard, and well, Amelia knows because she lives with me and most of the hospital knows because it is Seattle Grace Mercy Rumor Mill. As far as family goes. Not yet.
"I don't know what to tell them, and anyway I'm going to be fine." I say, trying to be optimistic for her. She has already faced so much loss in her life, losing the love of her life, and her newborn son. Losing her father at such a young age, and growing up without him, the black sheep of the family. Never quite living up to what her mother or older siblings expected of her. God. Does that not sound familiar? I don't want to cause her more pain, more heartache until it is absolutely necessary.
"Unless you're, not, right?" Amelia asks, her voice cracking, showing vulnerability that she so often tries to hide through her over the top personality or deflecting with humor and sarcasm.
"Right." I whisper, looking away. She is too attached to me, always has been. "Listen to me Amelia." I force myself to look up at her, her eyes are moist. She climbs up on the hospital bed next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "Everything is going to be fine. I'm ok." I say, rubbing her back, trying to soothe the tears. I try to soothe her, to stop her tears, but after a while I hold her in silence and let her cry.
"You're my sister." She whispers through the tears.
"I'll always be your sister Amelia, how my story ends isn't going to change that."
Authors Note:
Thank you to everyone who has read Don't Hold Me! Please take a second to review and let me know how you're feeling about this story so far. I really love Addison and Amelia. They're just sweet. I think Mark is overwhelmed with everything that is going on, he wants to protect Addison, just wants everything to be normal again.
