Post 2x17 - As We Know It - In which we all hoped the "she" he was asking for was Addison. . . .

Every Moment Matters

Where is she?

They don't go to Joe's after the day is done, after the catastrophic day they've just had. Derek just shakes his head at the offer and Addison doesn't know whether it's because of her or if he just doesn't want to go, but all the same, she's grateful that they'll go home together, that they'll enter the trailer together. She's just thankful that she's even going home to the trailer with a fully intact Derek - because what if. Even if it's the trailer. She actually doesn't dread walking into the tin can anymore. And now, she's waiting for Derek outside of the hospital since he had forgotten something in his office, blowing into her hands to keep them warm because it's a February Seattle and the drizzling evening sky is ice on her pale skin.

Every moment matters, she realises.

There was a bomb in a man's chest and he was on the brink of death. Senseless. Meredith had her hands, elbows deep, in that man's chest and she was on the brink of death. Courageous. And death's doors opened for the persons who had saved the entire hospital and they vaporised into pink mist. Tragic. Just specks of blood are what's left.

Every so often, they'll get a cases like this, not the bomb part, that's never happened before, but cases that dredges up old feelings of hurt and regret and silent screams of what ifs, out of the blue and in test, rocking their little family just in case they've all gotten a little too settled and attached to something they are all taught not to. A little reminder that life, all in all, is altogether uncertain, that every moment matters, that there's no point dwelling in checkered past because absolution and mercy is the only way out.

Because counterplay only ends in defeat.

"Where is she?" he frantically asks in a school of doctors and nurses surrounding the first floor, peering through white lab coats and scrubs to look for that particular red shine.

"Derek!"

It's her voice and he sees her in a panic, pushing through shoulders after shoulders to get to him. A loud grumble echoes from above, then. Audible gasps, glass shattering, metal clanking, he hears, frozen in place.

The silence is weighing down on them, oppressive and choking until Derek crosses that short space between them, and wraps his arms so tightly around her that tears sting her eyes because she just feels so safe like this, with him surrounding her like a net - ready to catch her when she falls. And she's falling, now.

"Let's go home." he whispers against her hair and she nods just once and lets him lead her by the arm to the locker room where she watches him grab his stuff - and then hers - before they at least try and shut thoughts off.

During the car ride - he's the one behind the wheel tonight with no jokes being made and no questions being asked - making the right turns and stopping at intersections, Addison notices a little mark just below his ear. It's older, dull and ingrained.

When the constant hurricane of emotions regarding the what if Derek hadn't manage to get out of that OR in time, she probably wouldn't even have a body to bury, finally settles into the compartments in her mind, she realises she doesn't know how he got it. But she'll ask - later.

How can she not have noticed it until now?

She doesn't get enough of him already; she doesn't want to miss anything else.

They shed their coats as soon as he shuts the aluminium door behind them, sighing a little as the lock jams into place and they're closed off from everything and everyone else. Addison watches him pull the laces of his shoes until the knot is no more so that he can take his feet out and wiggle his toes against the cold floor like always. Once they're lined up by the wall, he tugs at the counter of her Manolo Blahnik suede pumps, lifting her right leg so he can free the foot trapped inside before repeating his actions with her other one. He might have been stomping on her heart and soul for the past few months but today, he's as gentle as she remembers.

There's a moment where they both just look at each other, where all the little creaks from the woods outside fade into to a nothingness and all Addison can hear is her heart thudding restlessly in her ears while Derek gets nothing but the incessant ache of the what ifs in his thoughts. And the pain in Addison's eyes.

It's a kiss.

And then they shower.

It is a very small shower, but they managed.

Tonight, the fogged small glass window on the aluminium wall doesn't see her back pressed up against it as she grabs onto his shoulders, its leverage providing them both with all of the best angles. The aluminium wall don't receive his hand as he leans to catch his breath for a moment, eyes hazy and black with lust when she raises her leg higher up his because she wants more. Instead, that little cubicle that's always been too small now fits them just perfectly as Addison's soft fingertips massages the base of his scalp.

When she's done washing him and his muscles have ceased aching quite so terribly from fatigue, she gets her turn - closing her eyes against his touch as his hands and lips and nose love her everywhere. He might not say the words too often - not anymore - but he's showing her that he does right now.

Every moment matters.

The water cools to a tepid rain and Derek shuts off the flow, letting his lips land on hers. They just stay there. Not a movement. Not a breath. Just a promise she'll be okay. In the end. And she knows she will. In the end. Surrounding by his skin.

Their bed - because it's actually theirs now, and not just his - beckons them with pressed sheets, Derek always gets the creases out while she feathers the pillows - their little ritual - ready to envelope their bodies in sleep. They brush their teeth and he waits for her, a helping hand on the small of her back so neither of them have to make the few steps to the bed alone. It's not even that late, not really, and they haven't eaten since the French toast this morning, but they both know they'll feel better about it all once they're a tangle of limbs and a single heartbeat.

"You have a scar." Addison whispers against his chest, tracing the short line close to his ear with her finger. Even with her bony elbow prodding into his ribs, he wants her like this - draped like a cloak so her hair tickles his neck and her left leg lays between his. So she's everywhere.

Every moment matter.

"Fought with Kathleen when I was ten."

She smiles. She can imagine little Derek with dark curls driving his sister mad to the point that she left a scar to remember her by.

"And this one?"

She remembers, they both know it, but they also know it's an excuse for her to touch him. Not that she needs one.

It was years ago from a bar brawl when they were in medical school. It was all Mark's fault, though he'd say otherwise, because he had just dumped Dani Di Lucca - one of the many girls he was seeing simultaneously - and her brothers had came to her rescue. And being the hardhead that she was and still is, she didn't listen to Derek when he told her to back away as she tried to reason with the large boys. Because to her, words can be just as powerful. One of the brothers shoved her away, hard, incredibly so and that was when the confrontation became an actual brawl.

So who actually caused the fight is anyone's guess.

Her hands roam downwards, achingly soft in their touch as her fingertips skim the scar just above his hipbone from an appendectomy he had. She lifts her head and Derek wants it back where it was so that her cheek is against the skin covering his heart, but her lips caress the dull ache in his chest with their own brand of morphine so in the end, it's okay. It's just...nights like these requires no space between them.

Every moment matters.

When her thumb reaches that spot, lingering as she stares at the difference in colour of the skin there, he shifts his knees so she's pushed back up towards his face. To his mouth. They lean in together and this time, it's not a static profession. It's fluid; slow and soft and warm and all of those good things that comes with kissing the only person you've ever really really loved.

Neither of them need to make the declaration out loud. They both know.

When the inevitable sigh escapes her mouth and tumbles into his, Derek slides his hands up underneath the camisole she's wearing and she immediately knows - even without conscious thought - that his thumb is going to the mark on her back. It's one that lingers as the result of being shoved by an angry brother at the brawl - when she'd been pushed too far away for Derek to catch her - that had left her first with a splattering of bruises against her rosy skin, and now, just a single line when she landed on a shard. Almost half of the dwellers at that bar either ended up in the ER or the police station.

Every moment matters.

Derek's knees prop her up so that he can use what little strength he has left to tug the material up and over her head. When it's discarded somewhere on the floor, Addison shifts again because she knows what part of her skin he wants. There are moles and specks of freckles decorating her delicate skin, that he wants to lay his lips on. She offers her chest and he takes it. The resulting feeling of his hot mouth on her makes her moan.

Exploring each other like this, when it's come as the result of such a horrible day, is a kaleidoscope of emotions. The scars prove they each made it through but they also serve as a warning - so easily, they might not have.

Nothing about their union is hurried. Every moment matters. If anything, every kiss is drawn-out, every touch lingers at least a second longer than necessary and the way he removes her panties is agonisingly slow.

Derek holds her so close, even after both of them have climaxed and the air around the bed is so hot and sticky that her hair is damp against her neck. His hold promises her that she's safe; promises him too because he really really hates it when she's not in his arms - he realised that today.

Every moment matters.

Not a single one of the three pillows she likes to sleep with make it out from the storage space from under the bed tonight. She already can't get close enough to him; if crawling inside of his skin to take up residence was an option, she'd do it in a heartbeat. But it isn't and she can't. She has to settle for the cocoon of his arms.

Only now do they swap I love yous. She thinks she's going to cry because he actually sounds genuine this time. He's not mumbling something incoherent. He's not saying 'okay' or 'yeah' or 'sure' or 'me too'. "I love you, Addison." is his reply. Because the words can't heal their physical scars, but they can heal the ones in their hearts. Because - and Derek knows this - the only way she can sleep is if his low timbre is vibrating throughout her body.

He'd rather she hear I love you than anything else tonight.

Thanks so much for reading. I hope you liked this one shot. Oh, and if you guys haven't already, please check out my Maddison FanFic, it's called Salvation. And also my Addek one - Karma. Let me know what you think!