Disclaimer: In case you haven't already noticed, I don't own Grey's Anatomy.
A/N: I reread chapter 3, and was horrified to find several typo's...sorry about that! It wasn't until after I had started this chapter that I realized I forgot to discuss the issue of Izzie with Bailey. I guess I shouldn't be surprised I made a mistake like that—after all, I did get around to that part of the story at about 4:00am. Oh, and I've written a few of the later chapters out, I just have to get to where those scenes are…I'm dying to get there. Anyways, please, please, please review!
We're Only Human
It wasn't until after Meredith had started to walk away that Bailey realized that she had missed something. "Grey," Bailey called. "What happened to Stevens?" Meredith paled noticeably, and looked at Bailey with horror—as if insulting Dr. Montgomery wasn't enough to make Bailey hate her, to be the one to mention what had happened to Izzie made Meredith want to run away.
"Um…I think you just might want to speak to Dr. Montgomery…I really don't think that I should be the one to tell you."
"Grey, tell me what happened!" Bailey demanded.
"Um…really, Dr. Montgomery should be the one to tell you what happened—" Meredith was silenced by a look from Bailey. "Okay, then. Dr. Montgomery put Izzie on the case, after I, um, offended her. We told her that it was against the rules, but she insisted. Really, you should talk to her."
Bailey stared at Meredith, slightly horrified. "Damn," she murmured. "Did she say why?" Bailey demanded, but she knew the answer. She knew exactly why Addison had put Stevens on the case, but she didn't approve of it, and she resented the fact that Addison had gone behind her back. Despite that, to some extent Bailey understood it, and could applaud Addison for being the first to allow Stevens to do actual work. If Burke and Christina had gotten off so lightly, though admittedly they didn't kill anybody, Izzie should be allowed some chance to prove that she was still a capable doctor.
Grey shook her head, opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and turned around and started walking to the pit. A day of suturing seemed like a great alternative to the wrath of Bailey. Bailey considered paging Addison to demand an explanation, but decided against it when she saw Addison standing next to Mark, holding his cell phone, and looking like she was going to kill him. Bailey shook her head, and walked toward her patient's room. She'd deal with Addison later, and she honestly didn't want to be around Addison when Addison was angry at Sloan.
"Give that to me," Mark demanded, just as Bailey turned walked into her patient's room. "You have no right to…"
"No," Addison said, her voice level but filled with anger. "Mark, you have absolutely no treat interns the way you do. Not that Karev doesn't need to be humbled, because he does, but dry cleaning and breakfast are not the way to do so. They're interns, Mark, not slaves, and their job is to learn how to become better surgeons, not how to fetch breakfast."
Mark stared at Addison incredulously. They had had this argument several times before, but there was something different about it now. Addison had changed, something about her was different than the last time he had seen her, before she had gone to NYC on a case, and Mark knew exactly what was different. He wasn't looking at the new Addison, the one that pretended to be okay, the one that spent hours secretly crying over her lost marriage instead of going on with life. He wasn't looking at the Addison who lived in New York the last few years of her marriage to Derek—that Addison was broken, and lonely, and scared, in denial, and fighting to make it all better. He was looking at the old Addison, the Addison who was directed, and motivated, and bossy, yet simultaneously beautiful, and kind, and compassionate. He was looking at the Addison who Derek had fallen in love with, the Addison who he had fallen in love with.
"Mark, are you not paying attention to a word I am saying? Because it would be equally convenient for me to tell Richard, to give him your phone and remind him once again what a huge mistake it was allowing such a jackass to work here." Addison resisted the temptation to slap Mark, an act which she was painfully aware would prompt Mark to make a crude comment, and eventually lead to a long, painful conversation she really did not want to have again, especially not today when she was happy and changed.
"I hear, Addison. Interns are people—I get it. Can I have my phone back?"
"No you can't, Mark, because I know you. The second I give the phone back, you'll give it to Alex with directions to make sure to stay out of Satan's way when dealing with the drycleaners."
"First of all, I need my phone back unless you want to be dealing with my dry cleaning from now on which, incidentally, I wouldn't be all that upset with. Second of all, I'd never call you Satan." Mark smiled, and Addison groaned. As much as she hated Mark, she couldn't help but realize that there was some truth in what he said.
"Mark, you don't always have to act like such an ass," Addison sighed, paused, and then continued softly but forcefully. "If nothing else, you're a good surgeon, and you have the opportunity to teach others to become as good—that should be what makes you feel empowered, not the ability to order interns around simply because you're an attending." Addison held his phone out to him, and he took it quickly before she could change her mind. "And you do call me Satan, or something of that sort," Addison added as an afterthought. "Practically everybody does around here, seemingly unaware that I'm not deaf."
"Only Derek calls you Satan," Mark said smugly. "The interns seemed to have started calling you Satan's whore…"
Addison winced. "Thank you, Mark," she muttered crossly, "I really needed that right now."
Mark smiled at her, and asked the question he knew he shouldn't ask, but wanted to. "Addison, how about we go to dinner tonight?"
Addison looked at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" she asked, and when he didn't respond, she asked him again. "Are you actually serious?" Still Mark did not respond. "No, Mark, no we can't."
"Isn't it time for you to forgive me?" It infuriated Addison that, even when he was talking seriously, Mark was unable to act sincere, and not smug. "It's been more than a year, Addie, and you still won't talk to me—not like the way we used to talk. Even when we were together, you wouldn't talk, so, please, isn't it time?"
"I'm sorry," Addison said, looking Mark in the eye. "I'm really sorry." Addison grabbed Mark's coffee from his hand because it seemed like a good idea (and she had already finished her own), and walked away before he could protest. She was starting to think that it was impossible for her to really change, not in Seattle. Derek lived in Seattle. Derek, and Mark, and Meredith all lived there, acting as living reminders of how Addison's life had turned out. Not to mention the fact that she had been living in a hotel room for almost a whole year, and the year before that she had spent living in a trailer. But leaving Seattle wasn't an option, not for Addison. The only thing worse than staying in Seattle would be to leave it, to walk away, and never know what would have happened if she had stayed around. Her marriage might be over, but she had other things to fight for in Seattle.
As she walked down the hall towards where she saw Izzie, and while she sipped Mark's coffee, Addison reminded herself that she was changed now, that she wasn't going to get remain caught up on the past any longer. "Do you have the labs yet?" Addison asked.
Izzie handed over the labs to Addison. "They seem normal," she said. Addison looked over the labs to make sure that she agreed with Izzie, and when she looked up she noticed that she was being stared at. "Dr. Montgomery? I know that today you've been asked a lot of inappropriate questions, and I know that this is probably not the best time, but I just…Why did you let me have this case?"
Addison looked at the floor. "Are you sure you want to know?" she warned.
"I'm positive. Even if it hurts, it can't make me possibly feel worse than the other reasons I've been wanted recently. Really, getting told you're wanted because you're under orders to remain silent and not do anything or get in the way…and there was that one time when somebody told me that I was wanted because I was pretty. 'Fun to look at' was the used phrase, I think. I just need to know. Please."
"Please, Stevens," Addison pleaded, "I can't deal with this now." Mentally she reprimanded herself for being weak, but she couldn't bring herself to tell Izzie why she had put on this case. The reason was personal, and painful, and she fundamentally hadn't changed enough to express these emotions openly. Besides, Addison thought, even when she wasn't feeling sorry for herself, even when she was more collected, she still had never been very good at expressing herself to those she wasn't close to.
Dr. Stevens smiled grimly. "Okay," she said, and her voice wasn't bitter, or angry. Instead it sounded sad and disappointed, and when Addison looked up at Izzie, her eyes expressed understanding. Addison thought that, had Izzie not been hell-bent on being loyal to Meredith, Addison thought that they could have become closer to friends or peers than student and teacher.
"Let's go tell Mrs. Cohen that she and the baby are looking good," Addison offered, and Stevens nodded. When the walked into Mrs. Cohen's room, they found Mrs. Cohen lying on her bed, tears streaming down her face, and her husband nowhere in sight.
"Please tell me my baby is going to be okay," Mrs. Cohen sobbed. "Please…please." Addison walked up to Mrs. Cohen and took her hand.
"Your baby is going to be all right. She's doing very well," Addison assured her. "Are you okay? I know this is a stressful period of time, and if there is anything I can do to help you…?"
Mrs. Cohen looked at Addison and Izzie. "I told my husband to get some food, to stop worrying, but I can't stop worrying myself. What if it isn't okay? What if it doesn't work out as planned? I know you say we're doing well, but things can always turn for the worst. I'm so scared—scared that the baby won't be okay, scared that I won't be okay, and scared that I'm not going to be able to get over my fear. Does that even make any sense? Am I a fool to think like this?" she cried.
Addison blinked hard, but before she could speak, Dr. Stevens was. "It makes sense. It makes perfect sense, and you aren't a fool. I'd tell you that we all go through these feelings, but that's more condescending than anything else, so I want to let you know that we're here for you."
"Thank you," Mrs. Cohen whispered, and Addison admired Izzie's skill with patients. Some people were naturally blessed with good bedside manner, some had to learn it, and some never could get it mastered. Izzie easily fell into the first category; so did Addison.
Addison and Izzie finished with Mrs. Cohen, and after they closed the door to her room, Addison looked at Izzie. "We all make mistakes, every last one of us. Most of the time those mistakes are easily fixable, but with others they need a lot of work, and even then the wound can never be completely healed. I get that. Everybody deserves a second chance, and when you get that second chance, you deserve to have those around you fighting for you.
"It…" Addison had to force herself to go on. "It takes more than one person to make it work. If only one person is fighting for the cause, then the chances of the wound getting fixed are extremely slim. It can never be healed completely, and sometimes it cannot be healed at all, but it is wrong to give up fighting before you have even started, to submit to the punishments given by others without complaint. Wounds don't fix themselves. So, I'm going to fight for you and give you a chance to prove what you are capable of. Don't let me down."
Despite the lack of examples, Izzie knew that Addison had not only been talking about Denny. Addison had been talking about her relationship with Derek, and Izzie knew how hard it must have been for Addison to say that, knew that Addison would not have told anybody this before, even her close friends. Addison had wanted to tell, but could not get past the self-loathing, and the anger, and the terror that she experienced whenever anybody tried to approach the subject. Izzie wanted to say something to comfort Addison and say how much she appreciated this, but couldn't express herself verbally. Finally, after a long pause, Izzie said simply, "Thank you."
Addison looked at the floor, embarrassed, but after a moment looked up at Izzie. "Don't let me down, Stevens," she repeated.
"My friends call me Izzie," offered Izzie, hoping that she had not crossed one of the many lines between the attendings and the interns.
Addison hesitated, "Mine call me Addison," she eventually said. They stood there in silence for a moment before parting—Izzie to hang out with the other interns, and Addison to go check on the babies in the NICU since she didn't have any other cases today. As she entered the elevator, she saw Derek inside.
"You spend way too much time in elevators," she informed him as she entered the elevator, her eyes smiling. "Seriously, Derek, it's starting to get weird." Derek looked up from his blackberry and looked at Addison, once again trying to figure out what was different about her. She reached across Derek, her arm brushing against his, as she pressed the appropriate button.
"You think so?" he asked pleasantly. He knew he was missing something obvious, and he glanced down at her hands. That was it, Derek realized, Addison was no longer wearing her wedding rings. Though Derek had expected to be thrilled when Addison stopped wearing them, he found himself pained, as if he had just lost the last reminder of his marriage to Addison. Derek grabbed Addison's left hand, and examined her ring finger. "You're not wearing the rings anymore," Derek said, half to himself and half to Addison.
"I tried soap," she said blandly, attempting to smile.
"Soap," he muttered, "Soap is nice and slippery." Addison looked into his face, unable to figure out why he didn't seem as happy as she had expected. "Glad it worked for you," he told her.
They stood in silence for a moment until Addison realized that Derek was still holding her hand and staring at it. Addison pulled her hand away quickly, ignored Derek's embarrassed look, and wished that the elevator would run faster; when it didn't, Addison felt obligated to speak. "I've been meaning to thank you for driving all of the way home from Kathleen's. You didn't have to do that, and I really appreciated it." There was another long silence, and then Addison spoke again, "Derek, I'm sorry I forgot to remind you to take the keys from Nancy. I only realized after I was home and you had left…I guess you found a hotel or something?"
"I stayed at a hotel," he said simply, "But I would have appreciated it if you had remembered to remind me to ask Nancy about the keys. You never were good at remembering things like that—you'd remember the longest lists of random facts, and then forget to call and make dinner reservations. Do you remember that time when…"
Addison cut him off. "You don't have to do this, this whole act where we pretend like everything is okay between us. Everything isn't okay." Until recently, Addison would have been thrilled that they were acting not only civil, but friendly. She would have prayed that perhaps they would be able to fix what had happened between them, that he would once again love her. Now, half to her horror, Addison was more inclined to see it as painful and distracting. Before Derek could say anything, the elevator door opened, and Addison got off.