So, for some reason, this chapter was lots of fun to write. Much more fun than the previous one. I think this may say strange things about me, but meh…can't really explain them without explaining the chapter. And that? Well, it'd completely defeat the purpose of reading the silly thing. So yes…let's sum that up nice and short. This chapter was fun, fun, fun for me, and I am probably a strange person. Okay, good. Moving on…

Thanks again for the lovely reviews people. They're the heart of what make me motivated to keep writing. Seriously, it's just great to hear what you guys think. So thank you, thank you, thank you. Reviews are my crack. Feed my addiction, and all that jolly good stuff.

And yes, this chapter? It takes place on the same day as the previous one, however it's much later in the day. Last one was early morning, and this one is late afternoon. I don't know why I bother to explain this before hand, and then go on to point out the same thing in the chapter. Perhaps this references the above point where I mentioned just how strange I am. I knew I did that for a reason. But yes, I like to be redundant. Please humor me. Hee…that's about it for now. Enjoy!

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You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
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Meredith frowned softly, trying her hardest to act as if this were normal; as if having Addison as her doctor wasn't still painfully awkward. She was pretty sure that she was doing a miserable job, but the whole thing just felt so absurd to her that she wasn't sure how she'd even start pretending it was normal. And so she just sat there as quietly as possible, giving short hushed answers to Addison's questions, and sighing inwardly with relief every time the pale blue of Addison's eyes flicked from her face back to her chart. Meredith shifted slightly and looked over at Izzie. She stood just a little behind Addison, her face splitting into an amused grin when she caught Meredith's gaze, tilting her head towards Addison's rigid form. It helped…having Izzie there. It helped more than she had realized it would. The visits of the previous four days had been full of tense uncomfortable silences like the one they were apparently stuck in now. But then, Meredith had only had her own pain and discomfort to distract herself from the tension. Now, she had Izzie discreetly making every ridiculous face in the book whenever Addison's back was turned--trying to communicate all sorts of ridiculous thoughts through the wild wiggling of her eyebrows and widening of her eyes. Meredith's smile brightened, and she found herself forced to suddenly start coughing to keep from laughing.

Addison looked up from the chart at the sound, and raised an eyebrow. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice politely curious.

"Umm…yes," said Meredith quickly. "Just had something in my throat," she continued awkwardly, glaring at Izzie as she caught her breath. Izzie just shrugged, and offered her an even more amused smile. "But I'm feeling much better now. Today…you know, much better than before." She sounded tentative, but it kept the three of them from falling back into another unsettled silence.

"Good," replied Addison as she nodded her head. "You've been completely off the meds for close to twenty-four hours, so you should be feeling some improvements."

"Yeah," said Meredith softly, feeling grateful that they had finally been able to stop pumping her full of the drug that seemed to make the room spin, and send her curling up into a ball as she clutched her throbbing head. "I do."

"No pain?" continued Addison. She stared questioningly at Meredith, clicking her pen absently against the thick binding of the chart. "Anything feeling even slightly like a contraction?"

Meredith shook her head, smiling as her hands traced down the curve of her stomach, coming to rest above her child. "No," she said, and her voice softened as she spoke, more than brimming with her own relief. She looked back up, her unguarded smile still clearly visible. "Nothing," she murmured as she felt her baby move within her; filling her with a feeling that was warm and peaceful instead of constructed completely from fear and jagged edges.

The pale blue of Addison's eyes had deepened slightly, growing almost sad as she watched Meredith stare at the proof of her growing child. With a sharp shake of her head, she cleared her throat and forced herself to keep speaking. "Right," she began briskly. "Well, I'm going to keep you here for another day or two, simply for observation. But as long as you remain stable and keep doing as well as you are today, after that, you'll be free to go home."

Meredith sat up straight, unable to keep the eagerness out of her voice at the thought of finally escaping the bed she'd been stuck in, of making it beyond the four walls of her room. No matter how many times Derek visited, or how brightly Izzie decorated, it wasn't home. It wasn't where she wanted to be. "And work?" she asked hopefully. "I'll be able to come back then?" She was leaning forward, watching Addison intently, hoping to find her nodding her head. But instead, she shook it, a brief frown flickering across her face.

"Not at first," she said simply. "Once you're released, I want you to take a minimum of two weeks off. You need to stay away from the stress of the hospital while you recover." Her voice was firm--leaving no room for argument--still, Meredith found herself groaning as she sunk back into the pillows.

"Seriously?" she asked, her eyes growing dark and troubled. She was sure that, by the time she finally got discharged, she would have already missed at least a whole week of work. To miss two more after that… She stared up at her disbelievingly. "But I'm an intern," she pleaded, unable to keep herself from acknowledging how far behind she would be falling. "You want me to stay away for two whole weeks?" Meredith shook her head, asking, "Do you not realize how much I'll miss?

Addison didn't say anything at first; simply scowled down at her nails, lips drawing into a thin line. But when she finally looked up, her voice was sharp and irritated, almost as if she were speaking to an unruly child. "Do you not realize the reason you're in this bed in the first place is precisely because you worked too much?" she snapped.

"I just…" said Meredith instantly, but she trailed off as quickly as she had begun. Her mind was flashing back to the last time she had been on-call, still remembering with perfect clarity how that had ended with her curled up against the floor in the hallway, in too much pain to walk. Her expression grew quiet and solemn, and she finally nodded her head. "Two weeks…" she repeated, her voice just a hair above a whisper.

"Yes," answered Addison, her own voice softening as Meredith relented. She smiled slightly, saying, "Give yourself time to get back into moving around and doing things yourself. You're going to find it much more tiring than it used to be."

"Okay," said Meredith, nodding her head in agreement. "And after that," she continued hopefully. "After that I can come back?"

"Yes. Part-time." Her voice was flat and even, and she closed the chart as she spoke, filling the small room with a loud echoing snap. Meredith's eyes widened once again in disbelief, and she turned to look at Izzie. Her friend just shrugged; offering her an apologetic smile, but not much more.

"Part-time…" she stammered at last, raising a hand to push her hair out of her eyes. "As in forty hours…that sort of part-time? What about sixty?" she questioned, her voice growing thin as Addison's eyes darkened to a deep and frustrated blue.

"Forty hours," agreed Addison decidedly. "That's plenty. For most people, forty hours is a full work week."

"Most people aren't doctors…aren't interns…" grumbled Meredith quietly, more to herself than either Addison or Izzie; struggling to swallow her frustrations. She wanted her baby to be okay. There was no doubt about that in her mind. But her desire to be a doctor, a good doctor, was strong as well. She didn't want to be forced to sit at home, with nothing to do as she fell so far behind her friends that she'd never be able to catch up. She glared angrily down at the sheets, tugging them up over her stomach. Addison interpreted her sudden scowling as a further protest, and not simply the frustrated acceptance that it was, and she shook her head in annoyance.

"Grey," she said sharply. "Most doctors aren't also growing another person inside of them. You are. And right now, you can't handle working more than forty hours without risking hurting that other person. It's up to you." Her words echoed loudly through the quiet room, and Meredith ran a careful hand over the sheets she'd been yanking on, smoothing them into place.

"Fine," she agreed in a muted voice. "Forty hours in two weeks."

Addison smiled at that, nodding her head. "Good choice."

Izzie snorted, speaking up. "Not like you really had a choice," she said lightly. "Good luck getting in even forty-one hours now that Bailey knows about McFetus." She rolled her eyes in an unspoken testament to Bailey's nature, and it brought a smile to Meredith's face, the corners of her lips twitching slightly in amusement. Addison, however, looked back and forth between the two women.

"McFetus?" she asked, her confusion pushing her past the distant restrained version of herself she usually assumed as Meredith's doctor. Her expression was incredulous, and a little bit intrigued. "You call your baby McFetus?"

Meredith just rolled her eyes. "They call it McFetus," she said, waving a hand in Izzie's direction in a gesture that was mean to encompass all of her friends. "Don't mind them. They have an annoying habit of adding Mc- onto everything."

"Right, right. I knew about McDreamy…" continued Addison, cringing as she tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. "I just didn't realize there were more words."

"Oh there's lots more," volunteered Izzie, smirking slightly. Meredith closed her eyes, silently hoping that Izzie wouldn't mention McWife or McBitch, or any of the many other names that revolved solely around Addison. "It's a thing," continued Izzie as Meredith breathed a sigh of relief. "And Mer, you do it too," she added pointedly, making a face at her friend. Meredith rolled her eyes again, but relented with a shrug, knowing that Izzie would have no problem pressing until she got an admission from her. She turned back to look at Addison, expecting to find her either disapproving or annoyed. However, she simply looked amused, something almost wistful filling her eyes as she watched Meredith and Izzie talk. Noticing the younger woman staring at her, Addison sighed and shook of the sudden loneliness that had started to creep over her.

"Okay then," she said, offering a genuine smile. "Do you have any other questions, Meredith?"

"Um," began Meredith, frowning as Izzie caught her eye again, shooting her a pointed look. "Not really." Her eyes widened in disbelief as Izzie mouthed 'sex' at her, and she shook her head. "No," she blurted out, her voice loud and clearly directed towards Izzie as she gave another violent shake of her head. Addison's expression grew confused once more, and she turned around to look at Izzie.

"Is there something?"

"No. Nope," said Meredith quickly, speaking loudly in an attempt to drown out any possible future comments from Izzie. "There's definitely not something," she stammered. "There's nothing. Absolutely nothing to say, or do, or anything…really."

Izzie folded her arms over her chest, shooting Meredith a disapproving frown. "She's lying," she said flatly. "Meredith has a question."

Meredith's voice turned hoarse, coming out barely above a whisper, as her eyes continued to plead desperately with Izzie to just shut up. "No questions."

"Dr. Stevens?" asked Addison. She was glancing continually back and forth between the two women, trying to understand why one suddenly looked so apprehensive while the other looked determined.

"Yeah," continued Izzie, turning away from Meredith to look at her boss. It wasn't that she wanted to make things uncomfortable for Meredith. She simply wanted to see her friend happy again, and apparently happy required Derek away from Addison--an issue that all three people directly involved seemed to be trying their hardest to ignore and gloss over. She smiled as innocently as she could manage, more than prepared to nudge them in the right direction…the direction that was obvious to everyone save them. "She asked me earlier when I came in to check on her, but I wasn't sure of the answer." Her voice had slipped back into its more formal, work appropriate tone, and she paused to offer both women a polite smile.

Meredith groaned and fell back against the pillows, suddenly wishing desperately that she had kept her mouth shut. Rehashing that morning's conversation with Izzie when she'd come back to check on her had apparently turned the question of whether or not she would be able to sleep with Derek into a very pressing and important issue. She shot Izzie another glare, trying to will her to keep her mouth shut.

"Oh," said Addison, her voice growing thoughtful. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," muttered Meredith angrily, picking at a loose thread on her gown. "I've completely forgot my question, it was that insignificant."

Izzie rolled her eyes, looking annoyed as Addison turned back to her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "She wants to know if she can have sex," she said flatly; and as her voice stopped, her words seemed to fill the room, plunging them into an excruciating silence. It was brief, but it was deathly quiet, and the other two women stood frozen; looks of horror mirrored in their faces.

They broke the silence simultaneously.

"Izzie," hissed Meredith in an aggravated undertone as Addison let out a gasp of comprehension, flushing as she turned away slightly. Izzie just shrugged, and Meredith found herself trying to cobble out some sort of stammered and guilt ridden explanation. "No…I don't," she said, shaking her head vigorously, adding, "I'm not even mildly curious about that, and well…sex no." Meredith made a face, feeling her cheeks flush. "I don't even like sex. I mean, who likes sex?" she heard herself splutter, and if she weren't so busy cringing and wishing that the floor would just open up and swallow her whole, she could almost be amused by how blatantly nonsensical and close to insane she sounded. She trailed off, avoiding Addison's eyes, and staring fixedly at her hands as they fidgeted with her ID bracelet, tugging anxiously on the small plastic strip.

"Um…right," said Addison at last. Her voice sounded thin and breakable, as if it came from very far away. She turned back around. Her face was no longer flushed, but instead had taken on a strained ashen quality. She stared just past Meredith; both women intent on avoiding each other's eyes. "I'm supposed to bring that up," she continued, her voice growing even quieter. It was filled with something shy and apprehensive that sounded strange coming from the perfectly poised woman, but Meredith realized in a rush that it was embarassment. "I just…forgot," she concluded awkwardly.

Izzie looked back and forth between them, feeling a sudden unexpected swell of guilt as she watched the way they both fidgeted uncomfortably; unsure of where to look or what to say. "It was really just a sort of vague general wondering," she offered, hoping to lessen some of the tension at least a little. "Nothing more…" Neither of the women seemed to be comforted by her words in the slightest; both knowing how completely they were drained of even the smallest shred of truth. However, by the time she'd finished speaking, Addison had managed to pull herself back together.

She cleared her throat, staring with rapt attention down at the chart she was holding upside-down. "Assuming you stay stable over the next few days and are allowed to go home, then yes…you can." Meredith nodded, but kept her focus on the bracelet she was still twisting around her wist. "It shouldn't be a problem," continued Addison, struggling to bring her voice back to its regular tone. "Just don't be too…um…" Her attempt to do so failed miserably, and she trailed off, her eyes dark and uncomfortable.

"Right," said Meredith, finally looking up and finding her voice again. "Um…of course. I was…yeah, okay. I'll be careful," she stammered uncertainly, feeling herself once again blush an obvious shade of red. "Not that I'm going to," she continued, sounding suddenly alarmed as she glanced at Addison's rigid form. "I just…right, thanks." She trailed off as well, as her gaze finally locked with Addison's. The two women stared at each other for a moment; faces blank and stunned, both minds utterly unable to come up with anything to say.

At last, Addison shook herself free of the strange pained hold the silence had on them, and she nodded determinedly. "Right," she echoed, once again glancing down at the illegible upside-down writing on the chart. "Um…that's about it for today." Her eyes flicked back towards Meredith once more, and the other woman gave a nod of her head. Without another word, Addison passed the chart back to Izzie, and made her way towards the door, her usually steady stride turning into a rushed uneasy rhythm. Neither intern breathed until the door had closed with a definite click, but as it did, Izzie turned apologetically towards her friend.

"What the hell was that?" spluttered Meredith; shaking her head, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"I'm sorry," said Izzie as she shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't realize it would be so…disastrous."

"You didn't realize it would be so disastrous?" repeated Meredith, her voice growing quickly angry. She raised a hand, and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. When she straightened up, her eyes were glowing incredulously. "Izzie…you just asked her if I could sleep with her husband," she hissed, still shaking her head as she spoke. "I mean, seriously…what did you expect? She'd laugh, and the two of us would sit down and start comparing notes on Derek?" Izzie shifted uncomfortably, giving another indeterminate shrug. Meredith just moaned, trying to force the memory of the conversation out of her mind. "This thing is awkward enough on its own. Seriously…what the hell were you thinking?"

Izzie frowned, suddenly turning defensive. "Please," she said, folding her arms over her chest. "I know Derek's slept in here at least two of the past four nights. You're already doing everything other than having sex, so don't act like it was this huge leap out of nowhere." She sounded as frustrated as Meredith felt, and she yanked her hair up into a ponytail as she spoke, adding, "You two act like you're back together, and if you are, than it's not weird to ask your doctor. It's normal. That's what people do."

Meredith just moaned and shook her head. "It's not that simple."

"Only because the three of you are ignoring the fact that you're trapped in this freaking triangle," snapped Izzie, thinking back to the utter strangeness of the morning, and the whispered bits of gossip that floated freely through the halls of the hospital. But, as she took in Meredith's huddled dejected form, her expression softened. Leaning forward, she nudged her friend with her elbow, adding, "Besides, in a week or so, you'll be thanking me for this."

"What?" asked Meredith disbelievingly. "Why?" She looked up in confusion--unsure of why she would ever thank anyone for instigating the conversation that had just occurred--however Izzie simply gave an innocent shrug of her shoulders, her expression irritatingly smug.

"Because," she began slowly, drawing out the word. "You forget. I know exactly how horny pregnancy can make you." And with that, she shot Meredith a sudden grin, pivoting about on her heel and flouncing towards the door. "Page me if you need me," she called over her shoulder before the door closed once again, leaving Meredith alone with the frustrated silence that filled the empty room.

Meredith groaned, mumbling crossly under her breath as she sunk back against the pillows. She sat there staring blankly down at her stomach. Some distant part of her mind was marveling at just how much it seemed to have grown in the past week or so, taking note of the way it created a definite swell in the sea of blankets draped over her. That same remote portion of her brain was mentally flipping through the jumbled contents of her closet; vaguely aware that the majority of her clothing might not fit her anymore. However, the rest of her brain, the majority of herself…it was still caught up in reeling frantically from everything that had transpired since Izzie opened her mouth. Part of her wanted to be mad, desperately wanted to be mad. Mad was easy. She could handle mad. However, she was secretly grateful to Izzie despite the awkwardness, and that alone completely ruined her ability to rage blindly at her friend. And so Meredith just sat there; confused, annoyed, more than a little bit lonely. She lost track of time--caught up in trying to make sense of everything that had happened since she'd woken up that morning--and so she wasn't sure if it had been ten minutes, or an hour, or a whole day, but eventually there came the sound of knocking at her door.

"Um…come in," called Meredith, sitting back up in bed and running a hand through her tangled hair. She leaned forward, peering uncertainly at the door--blinking in astonishment as it was pushed open, and Addison came stepping into the room. The taller woman stood frozen in the doorway, her face uncharacteristically apprehensive. She was staring down at the muted leather surface of her shoes, her eyes shadowed and nervous. Meredith just looked at her, racking her brain for something to say, but coming up with absolutely nothing.

"Meredith," began Addison at last, taking a tentative step into the room, and closing the door behind her. Meredith nodded, unable to keep from wincing as their eyes met briefly. She pulled on a loose thread, effectively unraveling a good portion of her blanket's hem, but it seemed inconsequential. Her mind was too busy flooding with guilt to contemplate whether or not it was wrong to damage hospital supplies by letting her nervous hands pull apart the blanket's stitching.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she heard herself stammer, and Addison flinched so noticeably at that that Meredith paused for a second, an odd frown crossing her face as she studied the other woman. But, in an instant, her guilt flared up again, and a babble of apologies came spilling forth from her lips. "I'm really sorry. Izzie…I, we…shouldn't have, and I'm not going to…um… Not going to…"

"Meredith," interrupted Addison, holding up a hand. Her voice sounded dreadfully strained. "I actually wanted to ask you about something else."

"Oh," said Meredith, stopping short and nodding her head. She blushed, wishing desperately that she'd just stayed quiet, and saved them both her awkward attempt at an apology. "Right. Okay," she agreed, looking up and meeting Addison's eyes uneasily.

"I was…I've been…" Addison stammered, her voice growing suddenly soft and shy. She trailed off quickly, glancing down at the floor again. She was apparently steeling herself to speak because, when she looked back up, her question flowed easily from her lips. "Do you know where Derek is?"

"Do I know where Derek is?" echoed Meredith slowly. For an instant, her thoughts flashed to the possibility of that being a trick question meant to pin her as a consequence of their earlier conversation. However, she'd never had much luck with lying or clever replies, and so she just shrugged, shaking her head. "Not since early this morning. He said he had to go…do a thing." She looked questioningly at Addison. In the back of her mind, Meredith had been hoping that his sudden departure had been fueled by an equally sudden need to end his marriage that very instant. She knew it was foolish, and not at all the way her life tended to work, but still, she had been secretly hoping. Only now, staring at Addison's puzzled face, she knew that wasn't what had happened.

"Oh…" replied Addison as she adjusted her glasses. "Okay. I haven't seen him in a few days, so I was just wondering." She spoke quickly, as if possessed by the need to explain why she would be looking for her own husband.

"Oh…" echoed Meredith. Nodding her head, she found herself unsure of whether the apparent utter lack of communication between the Shepherds was relieving or disquieting. She looked back up when she realized that Addison was still speaking; her voice was a soft murmur, almost as if her thoughts were accidentally slipping out in verbal form.

"…I've been avoiding him lately, but I guess I thought I'd see him at work." Addison stopped abruptly; looking altogether horrified and uncertain over the fact that she had suddenly started to speak to Meredith as if the two of them had anything in common, as if the other woman had any desire to hear her concerns. Biting her lip, she took an awkward half step towards the door.

"Maybe he's in surgery," volunteered Meredith suddenly, and that suggestion caused Addison to stop short, turning back around. The look on her face made Meredith instantly uneasy, and she pulled her blankets close to her chest, eyes trained warily on Addison.

She just shook her head, red hair swishing with the gentle motion. "No. I checked the board," she said flatly. "He's not even on it today." Meredith's mouth fell open into a perfect o-shape at that, and she blinked uncertainly, her mind racing and at odds with the definite memory of seeing Derek in scrubs that morning. She looked back up, her eyes meeting Addison's, and finding her own apprehension reflected there.

"That's weird," she said at last, her words coming out as a soft whisper.

Addison simply nodded, her own voice a hollow echo. "Yeah…weird." They stared at each other for a moment longer; both unguarded and finding themselves frightened by the few similarities that seemed to stand out bold and glaring amongst the sea of their many differences. They pulled away simultaneously--Meredith looking back down at the bed as Addison cleared her throat. "Okay…right," she continued, moving once again towards the door. "Just thought I'd ask." Meredith nodded, still not raising her head. Addison's steps echoed through the quiet room, but she spoke again as her hand reached for the handle. "If you see him, tell him I need to speak to him?"

"Um…yeah," stammered Meredith. "Of course."

Addison looked back, smiling over her shoulder with a heartrending awkwardness. "Thanks."

And with that, she left, and the door closed. As it did, Meredith lay back down in bed. She stared up at the ceiling, suddenly missing Derek desperately as she tried to sort out where he was. Amidst all her confusion, she found herself feeling sadder than she ever had before. Only, this time, her sorrow wasn't for herself. Addison's face swam back into her mind, and she closed her eyes, her hands drifting down to cradle her child as she turned to her side and started to cry.

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Derek stared out over the water. It was smooth and glassy, the darkening surface perfectly capturing and reflecting what was left of the sun's fading light. In the far west, he could still make out the streaked golds and reds of the sunset, and they shimmered in little ripples towards him; moving soundlessly, not disturbing the peace that seemed to radiate from the heart of the land. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply to fill himself with the crisp sharp air. And, as he opened his eyes to the water again, he cast his line, sending it sailing effortlessly far out from the shore. Giving a contented nod to his work, he shifted the fishing pole in his hands, leaning back against the trunk of a tree as he glanced up at its bare and spindly branches. It was the dead of winter. Even in Seattle, while there was no snow or brutal cold, the weather was not exactly gentle. Still…so far, the night was free of rain. And, Derek had a hunch that, even if it started to pour, he wouldn't feel pressed to move from where he stood on the bank just beyond his trailer. He needed to relax. He needed to think. And to do that, he needed to fish.

Derek heaved a sigh, running his hand roughly through his dark unruly curls--turning back to stare absently at the water as his mind drifted back to the events of the day. He had left Meredith with her friends. That wasn't what bothered him. The bond between the interns seemed to run thicker than blood. It was the bright flash of familiar red hair he'd come across after leaving her room that had plagued him incessantly. He had watched Addison from clear across the bustling nurses' station, eyes trained on the back of her head. She had been moving continually; drinking coffee while reading a chart, and glancing up every now and then to give orders to a nurse who was walking beside her, nodding attentively. Derek had found himself filled with the desire to charge her down--to disrupt that perfect ordered busyness she'd somehow managed to master over the past eleven years--and demand a divorce. It had been on his mind when he'd left Meredith's room. He needed a divorce. He needed to end his marriage. If he was honest with himself, he should have ended it a long time ago. It was past dead now; just this strange dangling thing that simply struggled on and bound the two of them together. But as he'd stared at her, he hadn't been able to move. His feet had been frozen to the floor, and he'd watched helplessly as she walked away without even noticing him. She had disappeared down the hall and into a patient's room, off to tend to some unknown mother and her child. And it had been that thought that had held Derek immobile more than anything else. Her motions mirrored the way that she had taken care of Meredith and their baby, had saved them and never once said anything bitter to him about it. And that had made him laugh in a way that was utterly devoid of joy. Addison was usually full of at least one, if not more, disparaging comment, and she had no qualms about directing them at him. But with this, there was nothing save silence. Derek had stood there disbelievingly, realizing it had been entire days since they had last spoke, despite the overwhelming wall of things they needed to say.

That fact alone had killed his resolve. He couldn't yank her out from her patient's room to talk to her. He couldn't page her to divorce her. It seemed unnaturally cruel. And, after saving the baby and Meredith, she deserved better. Hell…after eleven years of their life, they both deserved better. He needed to think of what he was going to say. But, in the hospital, Derek had found he could think of nothing beyond Meredith. The desire to simply go back into her room, and stay there for the rest of the day had been close to overwhelming. She made it easy to forget the world; to curl up beside her, feeling as if nothing was important…as if nothing even existed beyond the two of them. And so, Derek had left for the day with little more than a hasty demand to a nurse to clear his schedule. It had garnered him more strange looks and more gossip, but he hadn't cared. He had barely even heeded Richard's grumblings when he'd told him that he'd need a few days off. None of that mattered. All that mattered was finding a way to end his marriage without further hurting Addison, and finally being free to give Meredith what she deserved; a future free of the baggage and complications that had plagued them from their very beginning.

Feeling a sudden tug on his line, Derek found himself jerked from his thoughts. He looked back up, and returned his attention to the water. But, after a moment, the fish neglected the bait, and the tension running through the rod melted away. The remaining rays of daylight had been swallowed up by the night, and the dark sky was deepening the blue of the water, turning it closer to black. Derek smiled slightly, amazed at the tranquility that seemed to flood the water itself; a perfect opposite to the way his own life felt. But, as he stared out over the bank, Derek couldn't help but feel happy despite everything. The back of his mind was filling the space to his right with the small form of a child. He tried to imagine what it would be like; if he would be teaching his own son how to fish, or if the air would be filled with the squeals of his daughter as she labeled all things related to fish and bait as disgusting. Derek laughed suddenly--a soft low sound--as his thoughts flashed back to Meredith's eagerness over all things related to surgery. And he realized, with her as a mother, squeamish might be the very last thing his daughter would ever be. He could see her there too…see Meredith. She looked perfect in his mind, the fading sunlight making her hair glow golden as it spilled in messy waves over her shoulders and got in her eyes. And she would be perfect…at all of this. Derek smiled at the thought of her bending down and picking up their child, holding the small form easily on her hip. And two voices would call out his name; the gentle familiar melody of Meredith's voice, and the unknown sound of their child speaking. It was currently nothing more than a garbled sound of innocence. It was just a vague idea, but it was a happy one. In his thoughts, Derek found everything was happy…Meredith especially. And when they called his name, he would go to them. He would be utterly free to go to them.

He reached into the pocket of his coat, pulling out the ring that he'd stopped wearing, but still found himself carrying with him constantly. The truth was simple; he wasn't free. Not yet. Not until he found a way to finally sever what was left of the vows he'd made years ago. Derek smiled dryly, thinking of how easily it was for him to sever things every day. He was a surgeon. Cutting was built into his bones. Scalpels fit to the curve of his hand like a glove. And yet this cut--this final separating stroke--was holding him paralyzed. He didn't know how to begin. The permanency to it filled the air around him despite the fact that he hadn't even voiced it. In a way, Derek didn't need to. He could already tell. This would be permanent. This would send them miles apart in a way that even a whole continent hadn't quite managed to do.

Derek sighed sadly, thinking back to when he and Addison had been young together. They had been painfully young and naïve in a way that he could almost find laughable now if it weren't for the sincerity that had filled everything they had said to each other then. They used to look up from their textbooks late at night, feeling numb and exhausted from hours of studying. And they would roll across the floor or crawl over the bed to each other; collapsing into a drained heap as their limbs jumbled together and they stared blankly at the ceiling or deep into each others' eyes. On nights like that, they had talked. When the numbers glowing on the clock beside their bed grew painfully small and late, they had always talked. Their hushed voices had filled their apartment with dreams for the future that were simultaneously hesitant and bold. Their versions of the future had changed often; being highly susceptible to both their moods and the sheer amount of studying they had done recently. But one thing had always been constant in the midst of their changing dreams. They had always been together. The idea of a future in which they existed independently hadn't even existed. At the time, Derek would have found the idea absurd. But now, staring out at the water, it was simply the truth. To think of the future was to think of Meredith. The two were inextricably linked, and, even if it were possible to separate the two, and go back to the way things were before…Derek knew he wouldn't do it.

He wanted the rest of his life to be aligned with Meredith's, not Addison's. He felt as if he were racking his brain almost violently, but he couldn't figure out what to say…how to end his marriage without hurting her. And yet, something told him that every day that he let pass with nothing happening would only serve to hurt Meredith. That thought alone was close to unbearable, and Derek sat down on the bank, laying back in the grass. He needed a way to end things. Letting go of his fishing rod, he stared hopelessly up at the stars, forcing himself to think.

No matter how hard he tried, Derek couldn't come up with the words.

-----

So yeah…I think this chapter was much sadder than the previous one. And I love writing the sadness. It is my favorite thing. (Hence my strangeness.) But yes, I have thoughts! Addie/Izzie/Mer…I confess, I like putting Addie and Mer together. They amuse me with their awkwardness. So yep, Izzie opens her big mouth because she can be a bit talky, and she really just is hoping that by pointing out the obvious to these people, they can maybe stop being stupid. However, awkwardness ensues. Lots of awkwardness because seriously, there was no way for them to talk about Derek and sex in a calm collected manner. Not then, there's still way too much unresolved drama.

So…Addison. She's having a hard time. She's sort of been ignoring Derek lately, and he hasn't exactly been going home or in any rush to find her himself as his attention has been completely focused in on Mer. However, Izzie's comment does have an echo of its desired effect. It makes Addison want to talk to Derek, and, because she has no clue how he managed to simply leave the hospital, she goes to ask Mer if she knows where he is. And, she's very un-Addison when she does so. She's vulnerable and uncertain, and not at all this perfect poised woman that Meredith tends to very much view her as. And that gets to Mer because suddenly that seems a lot like herself, and there are these glaring similarities that stand out between the two women despite how different they are in many ways. And, at the end, Meredith realizes just how difficult this is for Addison. Because…she knows that the woman's marriage is more than likely over, and for her…losing Derek after just a few months was devastating. She can't imagine what it would feel like to lose the past eleven years of her life. And so, even though Mer is very confused about what is going on with Derek and all of that, in the end, it's what happening to someone else that makes her sad and start to cry.

And Derek…yeah, he very much wanted to divorce Addison when he left Mer's room that morning. However, just as Mer is being held back by the fact that Addison saved the baby, so is Derek. And he doesn't want to just blurt out this demand for an end to their lives together. He wants something to say that will somehow magically make this not hurt for Addison. And really, there's no such thing. However, he plays his stupid boy penis card, and goes off fishing to help himself think. And he ends up not really figuring out what to say, but just generally thinking a lot…about his past with Addison, and about his future with Meredith. And so, even though what he wants is perfectly clear to him and he knows that he needs to get a divorce, he's overwhelmed by the process, and uncertain of how to ask for it.

So yeah, that's about it for now. They're all still trying to sort out the mess they've made for themselves. Thanks for reading!