Hi. Have you ever planned a break from your WIPs, and then you realize a friend really needs you to start a particular new story right away? Just me? Okay. Prompt and more details below. I've decided to stop apologizing so much and instead just thank those of you who read and review. This is a hobby, and mostly a fun one, so I'm going to do my best to enjoy it because hey, there's no pressure in the Addek Revolution.
This started out as a flip idea but like so many flips, I realized it was really a story. It's an Addek story set in Season 2, a starting point for umpteen stories. What makes this one different? You'll have to read on to find out. If this isn't your cup of tea, I encourage you to move on and enjoy the hard work of other authors on this site instead. And so we open right at the beginning of Episode 2.08, "Let it Be . . . " aka the one where Savvy and Weiss visit.
Two Pennies
… something's different. Nothing's different, everything's the same, and yet still … something's different.
-Derek, 2.01
..
..
It would be nice if someone in Seattle would take his side once in a while.
It's not about sides, not everything is a competition, but whoever said that definitely wasn't married to his wife.
He's still smarting from Addison's unexpected arrival, from being forced to choose, from the way everyone in the hospital is looking at him now.
Like he did something wrong.
Like this is his fault.
Take this morning. The one place he can actually get some peace—the ferry. He's standing on the edge of the top deck looking at the view, feeling the way the wind moves the water. It's a relief to let his face smart from the sting of the seaspray instead of his own jumbled up life for once.
And then he glances down and realizes Addison is on the lower deck, framed by the sun—of course she is, she always liked good lighting. She's looking up at him, and then she waves. She actually waves at him. And smiles. Half shy, half almost … flirtatious, and he can't help turning around in disgust.
It's not his fault.
She was just … there.
Interrupting his calm, peaceful moment.
Interrupting his attempt at normalcy.
Interrupting his life and yes, once he joined his life with hers, but that was a long time ago. Before everything. Before Mark. Before Meredith.
(Not that they're the same thing, obviously. As if a … sordid one night stand could ever be equivalent to the actual relationship he and Meredith shared.)
He did the right thing, didn't he?
She asked him to take her back, he took her back. Here, in Seattle.
But it's not enough for her. Of course it isn't—nothing is ever enough for Addison. Even though he didn't sign the papers. Even though he agreed to try. With Addison, there's always another request, another way he's disappointing her. When do I get to see where you live, Derek. Why don't you ever want to stay over, Derek. How do you expect to fix our marriage when you won't even touch me, Derek.
(There should be a rule that wives who sleep with their husband's best friends have to forfeit the right to nag for a while. Even if those wives are as dedicated to nagging as his wife is.)
Even if Bailey warned him to stay away from her intern and Meredith's friends are treating him like some kind of cartoon villain, you'd think people who've known him a long time would actually take his side.
A little more poor Derek and a little less have you tried counseling.
A little more sympathy, and a little less advice.
Is that really too much to ask?
..
..
He stands at the back of the crowded elevator, still trying to shake off the unpleasant ferry ride, and to ignore the voice talking loudly in front of him.
"I would not wish this upon anyone. Literally it's like someone reached in and ripped my guts out."
You too? he almost asks the patient.
Except she's talking about food poisoning, and Derek is talking about something else entirely. So he just directs them to billing, as he has in this very elevator at least twice a week since he moved to Seattle.
And then the elevator empties out and he's determined to start his day on the right foot.
Or at least a better one.
He's drinking burnt-tasting hospital coffee, squinting at a set of scans on the lightboard, and trying to concentrate. He never had trouble concentrating. Not before.
But now—he's distracted.
He's distracted by the unfairness of it all.
He can still hear the words in his head in that oh-so-paternal-and-wise tone: Marriage is hard. It takes work. The two of you, have you been working on it?
Unfair. As if he could actually understand what Derek was going through. His wife didn't cheat on him, and they've been married for about a hundred years. And it would be nice if someone could remember that Derek is actually the injured party here.
This day is shaping up to be another in a series of tense, unpleasant ones since Addison showed up at the hospital and interrupted everything.
No, he'll take control of the day.
He's not going to dwell.
He's not going to mope.
He's not going to spend more than half a second remembering that just before he turned away on the top deck of the ferry, he saw Addison below stop waving, her face crestfallen. She's not the victim here. He's done everything she wanted.
The point is, he's not going to think about it.
He has a full schedule.
He has a job to do.
He has—a visitor?
He freezes as he sees, from the back, a man standing at the visitors' desk in the lobby who looks, from the back, very much like—no, that's not possible.
Except the voice, too, is very familiar, the words growing more audible as Derek finds himself walking curiously toward the desk.
"Shepherd," the man is saying to the nurse. "S-h-e-p-h-e-r-d. Yes, I know there's more than one."
No.
That's ridiculous.
It can't be the voice it sounds like, because that voice is more than three thousand miles away right now, part of the life Derek left behind on the east coast.
That voice doesn't belong in Seattle.
He's imagining it. Guilt or tiredness or—something.
His heart beats a little faster as he approaches the desk, while the man continues explaining his situation to the nurse.
"Yes, I'm trying to find Dr. Shepherd, but I don't need an appointment. I flew all the way here, and I'd really like to see him. So if you can reach him on that loudspeaker thing, just tell him his—"
"Dad?" Derek asks incredulously, finally coming within feet of the unexpected visitor.
"Son." Christopher Shepherd turns around with a broad smile, his familiar face creasing just the way it always has. "I've been looking for you."
The prompt was how things might have been different if Derek's father lived. (Anyone recognize the reference in the title?) How might that relationship affect the way canon events went down? And more specifically, what if he came out to Seattle to give a little fatherly advice? It's 2020, and there's still a smidge of new Addek under the sun. I wrote this with one person in mind, but I hope more of you read it and enjoyed it too. I'll see you soon, in one story or another.